Fire and Ice
by RowanRamirez
Summary: The story of Elwyn, the headstrong, fiery-tempered daughter of Lord Elrond and her struggle to prove herself as she joins the Fellowship on their quest to Mount Doom. Elwyn expects nothing more than battles and bloodshed, but what will happen when she sparks the interest of a certain blond Elf? Eventual LegolasxOC
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first ever fanfiction so it may not be great at first, as I'm still getting used to how everything works...**

**Bear with me!**

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It was raining by the time the hobbits reached Bree. They stopped on the edge of the village, anxiously looking both ways in fear of seeing the black riders once again. When he was certain that the coast was clear, Frodo led his friends hurriedly across the road, knocking on the gate. A grate slid back, revealing a cloaked elderly man who squinted at them through the rain.

"Hobbits," he said, observing them with wary eyes, "Four hobbits. What business do you have in Bree?"

"We wish to stay at the inn," Frodo replied, "Our business is our own."

"Alright, young sir, I meant no offence," said the gatekeeper, opening the gates, "It's my job to ask questions after nightfall. There's talk of strange folk about."

The four hobbits slowly ambled down the streets, feeling slightly intimidated. Everyone they passed gave them strange, and at times, threatening, looks. Eventually the inn came into sight, reading 'The Prancing Pony.' Frodo breathed a sigh of relief. Gandalf would be here.

The Inside the inn was warm and crowded. The smell of woodsmoke and ale filled the air, along with the drunken chatter of the men around the bar. Frodo slowly walked up to the bar that towered above him and his friends.

"Excuse me."

The barman's head appeared over the bar, and he observed them with kindly eyes.

"Hello, young masters," he said, smiling at them,"If it's accommodation you're looking for, we have some nice, hobbit-sized rooms available. Always happy to cater for little folk, Mr..."

"Underhill," Frodo finished, "My name is Underhill." Gandalf had told him that the name Baggins was no longer safe.

"Underhill..." the barman repeated, nodding thoughtfully.

"We're friends of Gandalf the Grey," Frodo explained, "Can you tell him we've arrived?" He watched as the barman pondered at the name.

"Gandalf? Gandalf...oh, I know! Elderly fellow...big grey beard, pointy hat?" Frodo nodded, smiling in relief.

"I haven't seen him in six months."

The smile from Frodo's face vanished. He turned to his companions, whose faces showed equal worry.

"What do we do now?" asked Sam.

A few moments later, Frodo, Sam and Pippin were sat around a table, clutching mugs of ale uneasily. They were unused to this place, the noises and the crowds. Away from the familiarities of the Shire, the hobbits suddenly felt very small indeed.

Sam gave a sigh, worry evident on his face.

"He'll be here, Sam," Frodo told his friend reassuringly, "He'll come." They sat in silence, until it was broken by Merry's return from the bar. He slid onto the bench beside Pippin, clutching an incredibly tall flagon of ale, and looking extremely pleased with himself.

"What's that?" asked Pippin, staring at the flagon in awe.

"This, my friend, is a pint," replied Merry smugly.

"It comes in pints?" Pippin said, sounding amazed, "I'm getting one." He clambered up from the bench, and dashed towards the bar.

"You've had a whole half already!" Sam called after him, but to no answer.

Frodo stared at the table, deep in thought. Sam nudged his arm, and pointed across the room.

"That fella's done nothing but stare at you since we arrived," he muttered. Frodo's gaze drifted up to where Sam was pointing. In the corner sat a figure, smoking a pipe. He had the cloak of his hood drawn up, covering his face in shadow, but even from here, Frodo could feel the intensity of his stare.

"Excuse me," the hobbit said, catching the barman's arm as he walked past.

"That man in the corner - who is he?" The barman looked towards the stranger and his face darkened.

"He's one of them rangers," he murmured in a low voice, "Dangerous folk they are, wandering the wilderness. What his real name is, I've never heard but round here, he's known as Strider."

"Strider..." Frodo repeated thoughtfully, as Sam eyed the man warily. The ranger's pipe glowed, lighting up his eyes for a brief moment.

The door to the inn opened suddenly, and the ranger's gaze flickered away from Frodo. Another cloaked figure had entered the inn. They pushed back their hood, revealing the face of a young woman. Dark auburn curls lay plastered to her face, and her eyes were as green as forest moss. She observed the bar with watchful eyes, her gaze resting ever so slightly on the ranger. Then she swept over to the bar.

Strider watched all this without movement. He had been waiting for her to arrive for some time now, and was glad that she had. From his position in the corner, he observed her at the bar. Her auburn hair had come loose from her cloak and hung down to her waist in bedraggled waves. She was dressed in a dark tunic over leggings and boots, all of which were worn and slightly faded - suggesting that she had been on the road for a long time. At the moment she was surrounded by a group of drunken men, who were firing endless comments at her, which she ignored completely. One of the men tried to slip his arm around her waist. Strider didn't see what happened, but the next thing he knew, the man was on the floor, bleeding from his nose. He smiled inwardly to himself.

'Just the same as ever...' he thought. Suddenly he heard a voice ringing out from the bar.

"Baggins? Sure, I know a Baggins! He's over there, Frodo Baggins!" What was that hobbit doing? Surely Gandalf told him to no longer use that name, it wasn't safe. Obviously his friend didn't know that. The hobbit Strider knew to be Frodo went running up to his friend at the bar, and tried to pull him away. Suddenly he slipped backwards. Strider caught a glint of gold go flying upwards. He sat bolt upright, every nerve tingling. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the girl from the bar on her feet, staring intensely at the scene before her. She caught Strider's eyes, and a look of understanding passed between them before her eyes flickered to the hobbit once again. Frodo had his arm stretched out as if he were desperate to catch something. Strider saw the flash of gold once again, and before he could react, the hobbit vanished in front of him.

There was a gasp of amazement from the crowd of people around him. Strider was on his feet in a flash, turning to look at the girl. She stared back, eyes wide, and nodded. Strider knew that he needed to get Frodo away from here. He saw the girl hurry from the room, up a flight of stairs. Just as suddenly as he had vanished, Frodo reappeared, looking both exhausted and relieved.

Before the hobbit could do anything, Frodo felt somebody grab him and haul him out of the room. Without looking, he instantly knew it was the ranger.

"You draw far too much attention to yourself, Mr Underhill," hissed a voice in his ear. Frodo was shoved into a room, as the ranger followed, shutting the door behind them.

"What do you want?" Frodo asked, sounding braver than he felt.

"A little more caution from you, that is no trinket you carry," replied the ranger. Frodo felt his blood run cold. He knew about the Ring...

"I carry nothing," said the young hobbit.

The man known as Strider swept towards the window, extinguishing the candles there.

"Indeed? I can avoid being seen if I wish," he said, "But to disappear entirely, that is a rare gift." He pushed back his hood, so that the hobbit could see his face for the first time. He had eyes as grey as storm clouds and shaggy dark hair that hung in a tangled mess. Dark stubble lay across his handsome face, and there was a wild look in eyes.

"Who are you?" demanded Frodo.

"Are you frightened?" Strider asked in a mocking tone. Something about the ranger made Frodo answer truthfully.

"Yes."

"Not nearly frightened enough. I know what hunts you." There was movement in the corner, as the girl from the bar stepped out of the shadows.

"Aragorn," she said, addressing the ranger, "We do not have much time."

"I know," said the ranger. He turned back to Frodo and was about to speak again, when suddenly the door burst open. Strider whirled around, drawing a long silver sword that Frodo had not noticed before. Standing in the doorway were Merry, Pippin and Sam, their fists raised.

"Let him go!" Sam yelled, "Or I'll have you, Longshanks!"

Strider sighed and lowered his sword.

"You've a stout heart, little hobbit. But that will not save you."

"Who are you two?" Frodo asked. The girl stepped forwards.

"We are friends of Gandalf the Grey. You can trust us, Frodo. We know what you carry and we are here to protect you. I'm afraid you can no longer wait for the wizard. They are coming."

That night, Strider set up a diversion to mask the Wraiths from the hobbits' trail. While he was gone, the girl stayed with the hobbits, looking out the window with keen eyes.

"What is your name?" Pippin asked her. She looked up through her waves of auburn hair.

"My name is Elwyn," she said, "And you must be Peregrin Took." The young hobbit nodded.

"Gandalf mentioned you," said Elwyn, "And your friend, Merry. He said to keep a sharp eye on you two."

Merry and Pippin laughed.

"So, how long have you known Gandalf?" Frodo asked, "He's never mentioned you or Strider before." Elwyn gave a half smile.

"That is because we prefer not to be mentioned. But the two of us have known Gandalf for a very long time, though I have known him far longer than Strider has."

"How much longer?" Pippin asked as curious as ever. Elwyn shrugged.

"Oh, about fifty years."

"What?" Merry gasped, "How old are you?" Elwyn raised an eyebrow, smirking.

"That is hardly an appropriate question," she said. She brushed a wave of hair behind her ear, and the hobbits gasped. Her ears were pointed at the tips, revealing what she truly was.

"You're an Elf," Sam said, his voice full of wonder. He has always longed to see the Elves. Elwyn turned to him, a slight smile on her lips.

"Yes, Master Gamgee, I am."

"I thought all the Elves were sailing to the Undying Lands."

"Indeed they are."

"Do you not want to go?" Pippin asked. A hint of sadness flickered briefly across the elleth's face.

"Not yet," she said, "I am still needed. I will stay for as long as I have to and when this world no longer has need of me, then and only then, will I leave."

She gestured to the four sleeping mats that she had laid out on the floor.

"I suggest you get some rest," she told the hobbits, "You're going to need it."

"What about you?" asked Frodo.

"I do not sleep," said Elwyn, "As it is for all Elves. I'll keep watch until Strider returns. Do not fear, young hobbits. You are safe with me." She unpinned her cloak from around her shoulders, draping it across a chair by the window. Frodo saw that she had two silver, curved blades strapped across her back, each one as long as her arm. He still wasn't entirely sure if he could trust her, or the ranger. But then again, what choice did he have?


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys,**

**brankel1 - Thank you so much for being the first one to review! You made me very happy :)**

**I was able to update sooner than I thought, so here is the next chapter...**

**Enjoy and please Review!**

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Some time later, Strider returned. The four hobbits were fast asleep, with Elwyn standing guard by the window, one hand on a knife at her waist.

"How long have you been following me?" The ranger asked her. She turned to look at him, amusement flashing in her eyes.

"Almost three days," she replied, "It was almost too easy. If I didn't know better, I'd say you were losing your touch," Strider smiled.

"It has been a long time, Elwyn," he said, "I see you are just the same as ever." The elleth frowned in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"I watched you knock out a man at the bar earlier. Have I ever told you to mind your temper?"

"Only a thousand times," Elwyn muttered, "He was asking for it."

"And as stubborn as ever too it would seem." Elwyn laughed softly.

"I have missed you, my friend."

"And I you."

The two of them observed the sleeping hobbits in silence for a few moments.

"Any word from Gandalf?" Strider asked after a while. Elwyn shook her head.

"None."

"We must get the hobbits to Rivendell as soon as possible. The Nine are coming for Frodo. It is only matter a time before they find him." Elwyn pursed her lips.

"I can sense them coming. The shadow in my mind darkens. Something evil is awakening."

At that moment there was a loud clatter from outside.

"They're here," Elwyn murmured. Strider joined her at the window, pulling up another chair beside her.

"Do not fear. They will think that the hobbits are in the lodgings across the square. Trust me."

The two of them watched as four of the Black Riders approached the inn. Dismounting, they disappeared into the building across the square. There was a moment of silence, then the sound of swords being drawn. The still night air was suddenly filled with the sounds of something soft being stabbed. There was another moment of silence, and then the unearthly shrieks of the Wraiths pierced the air.

'They must think that the hobbits escaped,' Elwyn thought. She heard movement behind her, and turned around. The hobbits were awake, listening to the dark calls, fear evident across their faces.

"What are they?" Merry whispered.

"They were once men," Strider said softly, "Great kings of men. Then Sauron the Deceiver gave to them nine rings of power. Blinded by greed, they took them without question and one by one, each fell into darkness. They are now slaves to his will." Another shriek pierced the air, and the hobbits shivered.

"They are the Nazgúl," muttered Elwyn in a bitter tone, "Ring-Wraiths. Neither living nor dead." Her eyes found Frodo.

"At all times they feel the presence of the Ring, drawn to the power of the one," said Strider, "They will never stop hunting you."

"So what are we to do?" Frodo said.

"We are to take you somewhere safe," said Strider, "But it will take a long time to get there, and you must be on your guard at all times."

"Aragorn," Elwyn said, "I have a horse. Let me ride ahead. I can get help."

"No, it is too dangerous, Elwyn. We must stay together."

Elwyn pulled the ranger aside.

"I can do this. You know I am a fast rider."

"Elwyn, listen to me..."

"We cannot do this alone." The elleth's words were final. Strider knew that there was no point in arguing with her.

"Damn your stubbornness, Elwyn," he said, sighing, "So be it. Leave at first light, and do not stop until you reach Rivendell." Elwyn nodded.

"I will come back for you."

Elwyn waited until the first signs of dawn were appearing, before hurrying down to the stables. Her horse, Alia, a slender black mare, whickered softly when she saw her rider.

"Hello, mellon nin, (my friend)" Elwyn said softly as she saddled up, "We have a long ride ahead of us." She tightened the reins, and gently kicked Alia's sides. The horse needed no further encouragement. She galloped out of the stables in a flash, and was already into the open landscape by the time the sun had cleared the horizon.

"Noro lim, Alia, (run fast)" whispered Elwyn as she rode, "We must reach Rivendell before it is too late."

Frodo was getting worse. His skin had turned a deathly white colour and his eyes were clouded. Every so often he would gasp in pain, making horrible gurgling sounds that twisted the hearts of the other hobbits.

"Is he going to die?" asked Pippin fearfully. Strider examined Frodo's face. He knew exactly what an injury from a Morgul blade did, and he felt that he owed his companions the truth.

"He is passing into the Shadow world," the ranger said gravely, "He will soon become a Wraith like them." The shrieks of the Nazgúl filled the air, and Frodo moaned, almost in response.

"Sam, do you know the Athelas plant?" Strider asked.

"Athelas?"

"Kingsfoil."

Sam nodded.

"Kingsfoil, aye, it's a weed."

"It may help to slow the poison. Hurry..."

Sam and the ranger disappeared into the woods, scanning the ground. Strider's keen eyes soon spotted the plant. He dropped the torch to the ground and whipped out his knife, preparing to cut the plant. Before he could however, he felt the cold edge of a blade at his throat.

"What's this?" wondered a musical voice, "A ranger, caught off his guard?" Strider looked up and was met with the stunningly blue eyes and radiant face of an elleth.

"Arwen," he whispered, his heart leaping at the sight of her.

"What happened?" another voice demanded. Elwyn appeared over Arwen's shoulder, her face demanding answers.

"The Wraiths attacked. Frodo has been wounded."

"Take me to him," Arwen said.

The two elves approached the clearing where the hobbit lay. Merry, Pippin and Sam's faces lit up at the sight of Elwyn, and then they stared in wonder at Arwen. Like her sister, Arwen had the same long wavy hair, but Arwen's was glossy black instead of auburn. She also had blue eyes instead of green, but there was no doubting that the two of them were sisters. They were both stunningly beautiful, in the way that only Elves were.

As Arwen spoke some words in Elvish to Frodo, Strider clasped Elwyn's shoulder.

"I am glad you found us," he said.

"I could not have done it without Arwen," Elwyn responded, "As soon as I mentioned your name, she insisted on coming to help. I told her not to, but the love you share with my sister is strong indeed."

Strider said nothing and began packing the Athelas into the wound on Frodo's shoulder, causing him to gasp in pain.

"He is fading," Arwen said urgently, "He will not last. We must get him to our father." Together, she and Strider lifted Frodo onto the saddle of one of the two horses.

"We've been looking for you for two days," said Arwen, "There are five Wraiths behind you. Where the other four are, I do not know."

"Stay with Elwyn and the hobbits" said Strider, "I will ride to Rivendell and send horses for you."

"It would be faster if we took him," Arwen argued.

"The road is too dangerous," Strider said softly, clasping her hand.

"If we can get across the river, then the power of our people will protect us," Elwyn reasoned. Strider looked unconvinced.

"I do not fear them," Arwen whispered, squeezing his hand. Strider stared into her eyes.

"As you wish."

Arwen clambered up behind Frodo, and Elwyn mounted Alia once again.

"Arwen," Strider said, "Ride hard. Do not look back." Arwen smiled and glanced at Elwyn who nodded.

"Whenever you're ready."

"Noro lim, Asfaloth, noro lim! (run fast)" Arwen murmured to her steed and the two elleths vanished into the night, whilst the ranger stared after them, heart twisting with worry.

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**So there you have another chapter! Hope you enjoyed it, Rivendell is next, and we find out more about Elwin!**

**Don't forget to review, because they bring out my happy :)**

**I'll update soon...so long for now!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello guys,**

**I would just like to say a huge thank you to everyone who has reviewed my story so far. It makes a big difference to know that people have taken interest, and all the tips and ideas will go towards making this story better.**

**Thank you so much!**

**Love Rowan x**

**P.S Here is the Rivendell chapter, we also get to find out more about Elwyn**

**Please review, they make a big difference :)**

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**Diclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, only my OCs**

The two Elves rode non-stop for five days and nights, barely stopping to rest. Frodo was slowly deteriorating, his skin growing ever paler and the wound was beginning to fester. So far, Arwen and Elwyn had managed to evade the Wraiths that were after them. However, when they were but a day's ride from Rivendell, the eerie shrieking of the Riders filled the air.

"Arwen!" Elwyn shouted in warning. Her sister slapped the reins of her horse, propelling her forwards with new speed. The two horses were speeding through a sparse area of woodland when the Riders appeared. There were five of them, black hoods flying out behind as they rode. They were drawing nearer and nearer to the Elves. Elwyn kicked Alia's sides, desperately urging her onwards. She drew closer to Arwen, who was clutching Frodo close as she rode. One of the Wraiths came dangerously close to the hobbit, and Arwen cried out to her horse in fear. Her horse put on a new burst of speed, gracefully dodging around trees and Wraiths, Elwyn just behind.

The Wraiths drew ever nearer. The two horses galloped down a bank, and miraculously, the river was in sight. They rode across the river, without hesitation, water spraying up from their steeds' hooves. Arwen slowed down once she had reached the other side, turning Amareth around to face the Wraiths. Elwyn pulled up beside her.

The Riders reached the edge of the shore, but they seemed hesitant to cross the river.

"Give up the halfing, she-elves," one of them hissed. Arwen and Elwyn drew their blades, anger flashing in their eyes.

"If you want him, come and claim him!" Arwen snarled, a threat in her voice.

"We do not fear you," Elwyn added fiercely. Her heart hammered in her chest. The Wraiths slowly began to make their way towards them. Elwyn looked desperately to her sister.

Arwen was gazing down at the river, and she began to chant;

"_Nîn o Chithaeglir lasto beth daer; Rimmo nîn Bruinen dan in Ulaer!"_

A thunderous roaring filled the air as the river erupted. It raced towards the Wraiths, almost as if the river itself was eager to wash away the evil that contaminated it. The Wraiths turned and tried to flee, but the river was too powerful. They were completely engulfed, disappearing into the froth. After several moments, the river died down. The Wraiths were gone. Elwyn breathed a sigh of relief, sheathing her blades once again. She caught her sister's eye, and gave her a congratulatory smile. They had made it. They were safe.

Suddenly Frodo gave a choking gasp, and slumped in the saddle. Arwen quickly lowered him to the ground.

"No, Frodo, no!" she cried, "Don't give in! Not now!" But the hobbit remained motionless. Arwen held him close, tears running down her face.

The elleth turned to her younger sister.

"Elwyn, go and find Ada. Ride as fast as you can." Elwyn nodded, swinging around her reins, and she and Alia vanished into the trees.

"Come on, Frodo," she murmured, "Hold on."

Three days had passed. Arwen had managed to get Frodo to Imladris just in time. Her and Elwyn's father, the Lord Elrond of Rivendell had healed the young hobbit, and he was slowly recovering.

Strider and the other halflings arrived in time to see Frodo wake up on the second day, something that the three hobbits were overjoyed about. Frodo had also been reunited with his uncle, Bilbo Baggins, who was also staying in Imladris.

Shortly after Arwen had arrived, Gandalf had turned up too, much to Elwyn's relief. Her friend seemed slightly weary but pleased to see her all the same. He would not tell her exactly the reason behind his late arrival, but from what Elwyn could gather, Saruman had joined forces with the enemy. The news of this troubled her deeply, but she would not let it distract her. There was something much bigger going on. During Frodo's recovery, she noticed that Gandalf and Lord Elrond seemed to be spending a lot of time in her father's study, deep in discussion. Elwyn knew that they were talking about the fate of the Ring, and it filled her with unease. Frodo had believed that the Ring would be safe once in Rivendell, but her father refused to let such a dark object stay - not when there were so many enemies searching for it.

"Sauron's eye is fixed on Rivendell," she once heard him say. It was true, but Elwyn had always secretly hoped that they would be able to defend their home. However, in her heart, Elwyn knew that the Elves no longer had the power and strength to stand against both Mordor and Isengard. Her people were leaving the shores of Middle Earth. The time of the Elves was over. They would now have to place their trust into the race of Men. But the realm of Men was divided and scattered. There was only one who could unite them, and he had chosen a different path long ago...

Elwyn was restless. She understood that her father had called forth a council to discuss the fate of the Ring. She knew exactly how it could be destroyed. But deep down, she realised that Lord Elrond would never allow her to partake in such a dangerous and formidable task. He had only begun to allow Elwyn to leave Rivendell in the more recent years. Before then, it had never stopped her however. As an elfling, Elwyn had dreamt of adventure, seeing the world away from the safety of her home. She used to sneak out, wandering the woods and valleys, pretending she was on a quest like the warriors in the stories she loved to read. As she grew older, she decided that she wanted to learn how to fend for herself, should the day ever come when she would be allowed to finally leave. She managed to bully her older brothers, Elladan and Elrohir, into teaching her how to wield a blade. Her father had disapproved at first, but Elwyn had pleaded with him, pretending it was only for the purpose of self-defense. After much argument, Lord Elrond had reluctantly agreed.

From that day on, Elwyn turned all her attention to training herself how to fight. From dusk till dawn she would spar, pushing herself more and more. Her father noted her obsession and he knew of her longing to explore Middle Earth. Both troubled him greatly, as he knew what sort of foul and dangerous creatures roamed the world, and he was not willing to put his youngest daughter at risk.

By the time Elwyn was of age, she was more desperate than ever to explore the world.

"No," Lord Elrond said, every time she asked, "An Elf outside of Rivendell will attract attention. I will not send my youngest child knowingly into danger. You are of high birth, therefore you will be vulnerable." This made Elwyn furious.

"I will not let my title stand in my way," she told her father angrily, "I can fend for myself. You have seen me wield a blade. You know I can fight! You let the others leave. Why must I be left behind?"

"They are older, Elwyn. You are young and ignorant. I have already lost your mother. I do not want to lose you as well."

That night, Elwyn had been caught leaving her chamber with her swords and pack, dressed in travelling attire.

"Why can you not be more like your sister?" Lord Elrond had asked her softly.

"Because that is not who I am, Ada. I wish for a life of adventure and danger, away from Imladris. I am not like Arwen. She stays for Aragorn. There is no one to keep me here." Her father looked at her sadly.

"What of me? Would you stay for me?" Despite herself, Elwyn smiled.

"You have kept me safe all my life, Ada. But I am grown now. I need to choose my own path." Lord Elrond had looked at his youngest daughter then, and instead of the stubborn elfling, he saw the fearless young woman his daughter had become. And although it hurt him, he knew that she had made her choice.

"So be it." And Elwyn was finally allowed to leave.

She had spent the last few decades wondering the lands of Middle Earth, relishing in the sheer joy of having the freedom to choose where she wanted to go. Most of the time, she had managed to keep her identity a secret, but as her father had warned, her travels had not been without danger. Orcs, goblins, giant spiders, even brutal men...she had met them all. But Elwyn had a strong spirit, and she had overcome all the foes she encountered. Fortunately she had not been without friends. For some time, she joined the company of the Dúnedain rangers on their travels, along with her close friend Aragorn. She had also befriended the wizard Mithrandir, or as he was known in the Common Tongue, Gandalf the Grey. She often returned to Rivendell to visit her father and sister, but she never stayed for long. Elwyn was always worried that if she did, her father would change his mind and forbid her from leaving once again. Throughout the years, the elleth had seen much, and yet there was still so much more...

It wasn't until the past year that a whisper of an evil began to spread across the land. Since then, Elwyn's travels had been more careful. She kept her heritage a secret, passing as an ordinary human girl to all those who laid eyes upon her. She never stayed in one place for more than a week, and usually travelled by night. She knew that the One Ring had been found, and she understood exactly what it was capable of.

Returning to Rivendell, she had received word of the hobbits and the Wraiths who pursued them, and had decided to help them in their journey. She also learnt that Aragorn was tracking them as well, and was anxious to see her friend again. And so, she had left to find the halflings in the village of Bree, and now here she was, back in Imladris once again, waiting for the future of Middle Earth to be decided.

The elleth sighed as she paced around her chamber. The council meeting was to happen any day now, and she was frustrated with waiting. Elwyn decided to pay a visit to the training grounds. She pulled back her wavy hair into a braid and then strapped her twin swords across her back, before setting off.

The training grounds were situated amongst a glade, a little ways outside of the city. There were several targets for archers or knife-throwers to practise, and also a few dummies for sword and spear training. As soon as she entered the glade, Elwyn began to relax. She felt that she could be herself here, away from everybody else. Just her and her skill alone.

The training grounds were empty at the moment. All the other Elves were preoccupied with the council meeting.

Elwyn stood beside one of the targets. She did not have a bow, nor did she ever plan to own one. It was something that she had never told anyone, but Elwyn's archery skills were mediocre at best. This was highly unusual for an Elf, as their race was famous for their flawless aim and the swiftness of their arrows. Elwyn could only imagine the teasing her brothers would subject her to, should they find out. Ever since she had first handled them, she had always preferred the blades of swords and knives. In her opinion, they took more skill to wield and could be more easily concealed. The elleth casually leant against the target, and from a sheath in her boot, slipped out a curved silver dagger, that she had named 'elin', the Sindarin word for 'star'. She balanced it in the palm of her hand, feeling its weight, and then stabbed it into the target board, leaving it stuck there.

The Elf turned her back from the target, drawing both of her longknives, Naur and Heleg (fire and ice). She began to swing them through the air, miming thrusts and parries. She moved with unbelievable grace, almost as if she were dancing. She slashed a dummy across the chest, spilling straw to the ground. She turned and swiped again, decapitating it completely.

"Your skills with longknives are improving, Elwyn," said a voice behind her. She turned to see Strider watching her. Elwyn smiled, lowering her blades.

"But they are nowhere close to yours with the sword, my friend," she replied. She caught a glimpse of silver around his neck, and her breath caught in her throat. Her sister's Evenstar pendant hung there, a bright jewel surrounded by a curving silver clasp, shining against the ranger's dark tunic. This was a powerful sign indeed. Elves only gave their pendants to the one person they truly loved, which meant that if Arwen had given hers to Strider, she was choosing to give up her immortal life. Elwyn felt a surge of sorrow when she realised that this meant she would eventually lose her older sister. But she knew how much Strider loved her sister. It was Arwen's own choice to make and Elwyn would stand by her no matter what. The young elleth traced her own pendant thoughtfully. Instead of the glimmering white flower that her sister's pendant was, Elwyn's was an egg-shaped emerald, the same colour as her eyes, held in a silver clasp that mimicked the shape of a lily. Strider realised that she had seen the pendant, and his face took on a solemn look.

"Elwyn, please talk to your sister," he pleaded, "I cannot let her forsake the immortal life of the Elves. Not for me." Elwyn just smiled and shook her head.

"You know I cannot do that. My sister loves you, Aragorn. Nothing I can say will change that, and it would not be my darkest wish to ever do so. I know that you will be very happy together." Despite himself, the ranger smiled. He saw that his friend spoke the truth.

"Is there another reason you have come?" Elwyn asked, as she sheathed her swords and pulled her dagger from the target. Aragorn nodded, looking slightly sheepish.

"Yes. Your father would not want me telling you this, but I thought that you had a right to know; the council is about to begin."

* * *

**Sooo...slight cliff hanger there (I couldn't resist ;P)**

**How do you reckon Elwyn is going to react?**

**Please leave a review, they are more than welcome (but no flames please)**

**Thank you, and I'll update soon :D**

**Elvish Translations:**

**_Nîn o Chithaeglir lasto beth daer; Rimmo nîn Bruinen dan in Ulaer ('Waters of the Misty Mountains, listen to the great word; flow waters of_**

**_ Loudwater against the Ringwraiths!)_**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hiya!**

**So I decided to update another chapter as a few people were asking :)**

**Thank you to all who have reviewed and please keep reading**

**Enjoy...**

* * *

**Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, only my OC :(**

"Please, Ada, I beg of you. Let me attend!"

"Certainly not. I have been patient with you, Elwyn. I have allowed you to have the freedom to travel around Middle Earth, to train with a sword, but I will not let you be a part of this."

"And what use will travelling and training be if you deny me this? You allow Aragorn to attend the council, what difference is there between us?"

"You are my daughter."

"He is as good as your son! I will not watch this world fall to ruin in the knowledge that I did nothing to help prevent it."

Elwyn and Lord Elrond had been arguing for the best part of an hour now. As soon as Aragorn had told her of the council, Elwyn had run to her father's study, and demanded that she be a part of it. She could see that her father was very close to losing his temper, but Elwyn did not care. She _had_ to be a part of this, no matter the cost.

"Elwyn," the Elf-lord sighed wearily, "You do not understand the importance of this task. The entire fate of Middle Earth depends on this, and you wish for me to willingly let you be a part of it."

"Yes," Elwyn said bluntly. A look of anger flashed across Lord Elrond's face.

"I will not do this," he said, "I have already given you too much freedom, letting you wander and fight. I would have you sail to the Undying Lands with your sister. There, and only there, will the two of you be safe."

"I will not leave Middle Earth!" argued Elwyn. Her green eyes had darkened to hazel, a dangerous sign, "The time of the Elves may be over, but my time is not. Arwen will not leave, and neither shall I, not until I absolutely have to." Her father gave her a look of such deep and utter sadness, that Elwyn felt her heart twist.

"I cannot leave both of you here to die."

"Arwen has made her choice."

"But you have not," Lord Elrond pointed out. His gaze lingered on Elwyn's Evenstar, "You still have your pendant."

"And I intend to keep it. I made my choice to stay immortal long ago. I am sorry, father, but I am staying in Middle Earth."

Her father simply stared at her in silence.

"Ada," Elwyn began, her voice softening, "I am no longer a child. I helped bring the Ring to Rivendell, fighting against the Wraiths with my sister. I have travelled this world for over eighty years, and I **know** that I can do this. Please."

"You would have me send my youngest child into the depths of Mordor, to destroy the most powerful weapon ever created."

"I would."

There was a long silence, in which Lord Elrond surveyed his daughter. Her fists were clenched, her beautiful face, so much like her mother's, set with determination. She glared back at him stubbornly. After what felt like an age, her father sighed.

"Why can't you ever do as you are told, Elwyn? You are too stubborn for your own good." The elleth smiled slightly.

"That makes two of us." Lord Elrond chuckled, but there was pain in his eyes.

"There is nothing I can say that will make you change your mind, is there?" Elwyn smiled sadly.

"No, Ada," she replied softly, "This is the path I choose." Her father gave a long sigh.

"Then let it be so. You may join the council – Lady Elwyn, ambassador of Rivendell." Elwyn's face lit up in sheer delight, and she embraced her father.

"_Hannon le_,(thank you)" she whispered. Lord Elrond hugged her back tightly, heart clenching at the thought of finally letting his daughter go. Elwyn clasped his hands.

"I will make you proud." Her father kissed her brow.

"I know you will."

The Council had been gathered in a small courtyard. A group of wooden seats were circled around a stone plinth. Lord Elrond was sat at the head in an elegantly carved chair, looking very serious. Elwyn was trying to contain her excitement, although she was slightly nervous too. She had no idea what was about to happen.

She had changed out of her training outfit and was now wearing a fresh tunic and clean shirt. Her hair had been washed and fell down her back in a cascade of waves that glinted like fire in the sunlight. She noticed that many of the people around her kept giving her small glances. She guessed what they were thinking. They would be wondering what a woman was doing at this council, for she was indeed the only female present. However, Elwyn paid them no attention as she took her place next to Aragorn, tying to ignore the tension and stares. She found her eyes wondering around the circle, taking in everyone there.

Sitting across from them were Frodo and Gandalf. The young hobbit looked even more nervous than she felt, and Elwyn suddenly felt a little sorry for him.

'_He must be feeling very intimidated_,' she thought. Gandalf was staring at the plinth, a thoughtful expression on his wise face. On the other side of him were a group of Elves. However these were not from Rivendell. They were from the northern kingdom of Mirkwood. Elwyn had passed through their realm a few times on her travels but had never seen the Elvish city. Past the Elves were a small group of Dwarves, looking slightly wary. Elwyn understood why. It was well known that their race did not get along well with Elves, although she wasn't quite sure of the reason. The last group of strangers were a few men sat on the other side of Aragorn. Their tunics displayed the emblem of a white tree, the sign of the kingdom of Gondor.

By the time Elwyn had taken all of this in, Lord Elrond stood and everyone fell silent. The council was ready to begin.

Her father addressed the council in his usual calm manner;

"Strangers from district lands, friends of old. You have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle Earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite or you will fall. Each race is bound to this fate-this one doom."

There was a slight pause and Elwyn saw that many of the members had confusion written upon their faces, for only a few amongst them knew the true purpose of this meeting. Lord Elrond gestured towards Frodo.

"Bring forth the Ring, Frodo." The little hobbit timidly rose to his feet, his hand clutching something. He slowly approached the stone plinth and onto it placed a small golden ring. Elwyn could not help but stare at it. For such a dark and powerful weapon, it looked to so ordinary. Then her keen ears picked up a murmur, not from the people around her but from the golden object itself. It spoke of power, of terror and darkness, and Elwyn tore her eyes away. The Ring was treacherous and no mistake. She watched as Frodo returned to his seat, sighing as if he had just carried a huge weight.

All around her, the members of the council were staring at the Ring just as intently as she had been, whispering in hushed, awe-filled tones.

One of the men from Gondor was the first to speak.

"So it is true," he murmured. He rose out of his chair and Elwyn recognised him as being Boromir, son of the Steward of Gondor. He began to address everyone;

"In a dream, I saw the Eastern sky grow dark. But in the West, a pale light lingered. A voice was crying "Doom is near at hand, Isildur's Bane is found."'

He began to stretch his hand towards the Ring and Elwyn tensed.

Her father, coming to the same conclusion, stood up, a look of anger on his race.

"Boromir!" he said warningly.

Before anyone could react, Gandalf rose up and spoke a spell in the rasping tongue of Mordor. Elwyn did not understand the words, but the mere sound of the Black Speech was enough to send a wave of pain shooting through her head.

"_Ash Nazg Durbatuluk, Ash Nazg Gimbatul, Ash Nazg Thrakatuluk, Agh Burzum-ishi Krimpatul_!"

The elleth felt the light darken around her, and the temperature seemed to drop. She looked around and saw the other Elves grimacing and she understood that they were feeling the same pain with her. The Mordor language had a bad effect on Elves. She glanced worriedly at her father, who had a hand pressed to his head, but he seemed okay. Her father turned to Gandalf, having lost his calm manner.

"Never before has anyone dared utter words of that tongue here, in Imladris."

"I do not ask for pardon, Master Elrond," answered the wizard, "For the Black Speech of Mordor may yet be heard in every corner of the West. The Ring is altogether evil."

Most of the council nodded in agreement. But then Boromir spoke again and he could not hide his eagerness.

"It is a gift! A gift to the foes of Mordor! Why not use it? Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe. Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy. Let us use it against him."

Elwyn stared at him in disbelief. Was the Gondorian already tempted by the ring?

"You cannot wield it," came the voice of the ranger beside her. It was the first time that Aragorn had spoken, "None of us can. The One Ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master."

"And what would a Ranger know on this matter?" Boromir sneered.

At this point, Elwyn's temper flared, but before she could speak, one of the Mirkwood Elves rose fluidly to his feet. He had pale golden hair, laced with warrior braids, and his words were tinted with anger.

"This is no mere ranger," he said fiercely, "He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him you allegiance."

Elwyn saw Frodo looking at Aragorn, in surprise. The hobbit had had no idea of the ranger's true identity until now However, as much as the Elf's words had impressed the hobbit, Boromir simply eyed Aragorn in disbelief.

"Aragorn? This is Isildur's heir?"

"And heir to the throne of Gondor," the Elf said coolly.

Aragorn put out a hand to the Elf.

"Havodad, Legolas (sit down, Legolas)," he said quietly.. Reluctantly, the Elf sat down, glaring at the Gondorian.

"Gondor has no king," Boromir stated acidly, "Gondor needs no king."

"You have only one choice," Lord Elrond said, interrupting the venomous looks that were erupted around the circle, and returning to the main problem, "The Ring must be destroyed."

Her father's words calmed Elwyn down, but she knew exactly what would follow. Before she could say anything, one of them Dwarves spoke.

"Then what are we waiting for?"

And with these words he took the axe next to him, stood up and struck the Ring with it. There was a loud clang of metal as the axe broke and the dwarf was tossed back. Elwyn sighed. Surely the Dwarves, master craftsmen of Middle Earth, would know that something as simple as an axe could not destroy the ring.

"The Ring cannot be destroyed, Gimli, son of Gloin, by any craft that we here possess," the Lord of Rivendell calmly explained, voicing Elwyn's thoughts, "The Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came. One of you must do this."

Mount Doom…a mountain of molten fire, deep within the very heart of Mordor. To volunteer for such a quest would be almost suicidal.

Minutes of silence passed. No one volunteered or made a suggestion about what was best to do. And then, to Elwyn's great annoyance, the man of Gondor spoke again;

"One does not simply walk into Mordor,' he said, now without his previous enthusiasm, "Its Black Gates are guarded by more than just Orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep. The great Eye is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland, riddled with fire, ash and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand men could you do this. It is folly."

The Mirkwood Elf stood up again.

"Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said?" he said forcefully, "The Ring must be destroyed!"

"And I suppose you think you are the one to do it?" asked the dwarf Lord Elrond had called Gimli.

"And if we fail, what then?" Boromir interjected, "What happens when Sauron takes back what is his?"

Elwyn could feel her anger rising. Didn't they see that this was what was putting them all in danger? If they fought amongst themselves, they were dead. It was essential for them to unite.

"I will be dead before I see the Ring in the hands of an elf!" Gimli yelled.

Not even her father, with his gift of foresight, could have predicted the explosion that followed. All of the Mirkwood Elves stood up and started arguing with the Dwarves, while the Men were arguing among themselves and Gandalf with Boromir. The blond Elf stretched his hands to prevent his kin from fighting, but this did not prevent them to continue arguing. Elwyn and Aragorn remained seated, silently despairing at the scene before them. Suddenly a high voice was heard, a voice that belonged to the person that Elwyn had least expected to stand up.

"I will take it!" shouted Frodo, making everyone stop and look at him. Elwyn saw Gandalf close his eyes and grimace.

"I will take the Ring to Mordor," Frodo repeated determinedly, "Although…I do not know the way."

The old wizard walked towards him and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I will help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins. As long as it is yours to bear."

Elwyn glanced at her father. This was what she had been waiting for. Her father looked back, a hint of sadness in his eyes. Then he nodded.

"If by my life or death I can protect you, I will," Aragorn was saying. He went to Frodo and knelt in front of him, "You have my sword."

Elwyn winced, thinking of Arwen. Her poor sister. She would be away from Aragorn again and this time for who knew how long. But Aragorn was a skilled fighter, and brave as well. He would return to her.

The blond Mirkwood Elf stood to join the ranger.

"And you have my bow."

Gimli was the next to stand.

"And my axe."

Boromir slowly rose to his feet, and walked towards to hobbit.

"You carry the fates of us all, little one," he said, "If it is indeed the will of the council, then Gondor will see it done."

"Wait!" Elwyn said, standing, "I'm coming with you." She glared at them all, silently daring them to contradict her. Only one of them was stupid enough to do so.

"I do not think that wise," said Boromir. Elwyn balled her fists in anger, but she forced her voice to remain calm.

"And why is that?"

"A woman on such a quest would be a bad idea. You would be vulnerable."

"I assure you, Boromir," Aragorn said coolly, "Lady Elwyn is perfectly capable to defend herself." He flashed his friend a brief smile.

"I still deem it unwise!" Boromir insisted, "I will not go across country and fight many dangers alongside a woman."

"I have defeated more foes than you could ever imagine!" Elwyn said angrily, "Middle Earth has been my home for two thousand years and I have just as much right to fight for it as any of you. If we fail and Sauron rises to power, do you think that he will spare the women? He will kill everyone in his path. And I will not stand aside and do nothing when we have a chance to stop him." She and Boromir stared daggers at each other, until the man slumped in defeat.

"So be it."

"You shall not regret it, I promise you," Elwyn told him, before bowing her head to Frodo, "You have my knives, Master Baggins."

There was a sudden from one of the bushes nearby. Samwise Gamgee struggled out and went running to Frodo's side.

"Mr. Frodo is not going anywhere without me," he said, folding his arms in front of his chest. Elwyn had to smile at his fierce loyalty to his friend. Her father seemed to have the same opinion, for he seemed slightly amused at the hobbit's entrance.

"No indeed, it is hardly possible to separate you, even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not." Sam looked rather guilty.

Before anyone could say anything, Merry and Pippin appeared behind two pillars and stood next to Frodo.

"We are coming too!" Pippin announced.

"You would have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us!" Merry agreed.

"Besides," reasoned Pippin, "You need people of intelligence on this sort of…mission…quest…thing."

"Well, that rules you out, Pip," Merry muttered. Elwyn suppressed a laugh.

Her father looked at them and a smile of pride and awe appeared on his face.

"Ten companions," he said, "So be it. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring."

"Great!" exclaimed Pippin, "So, where are we going?'

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed :) I will aim to update again tomorrow**

**Please review :)**

**Farewell x**

**Elvish Translations:**

**the inscription on the Ring:**

**_Ash Nazg Durbatuluk, Ash Nazg Gimbatul, Ash Nazg Thrakatuluk, Agh Burzum-ishi Krimpatul (One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to Find them, One Ring to bring them all, and in the darkness, bind them)_**


	5. Chapter 5

**Just a short chapter this time...however it does include Elwyn's first meeting with Legolas :)**

**Enjoy...**

**Please review**

* * *

**Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, only Elwyn**

A banquet was held in Imladris that night, to celebrate the creation of the Fellowship. The Dwarves were all sitting and drinking in the corner, away from the Elves. The hobbits were deep in conversation with Gandalf. Elwyn herself was leaning against the wall, avoiding the questions and glares she kept receiving. She preferred to be away from the centre of attention.

"I must admit," came a voice beside her, "I was quite impressed with your argument against Boromir earlier." Elwyn turned to find herself facing the blond Elf from the council.

"I have had a lot of practise," she said, shrugging, "It's amazing how many people do not trust you because of your gender."

"Aragorn seems to trust you," the Elf said.

"I know he does," Elwyn said, "You seem to know him well."

"Yes, he is an old friend of mine." Elwyn gave the Elf a wary look.

"And...who are you exactly?"

"Legolas Greenleaf." Elwyn raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"King Thranduil's son? The Prince of Mirkwood? What are you doing, risking your life for such a dangerous quest?"

Legolas's mouth quirked.

"I might ask you the same thing, my lady. A high born elleth, on a quest to save Middle Earth...it is most unheard of."

"Do you doubt me?" Elwyn asked politely, but she could not help feeling annoyed at the prince's words.

"I'm not sure. I don't know anything about you, so how can I? But then again, I also don't know if you are indeed as capable as Aragorn says."

"You don't believe him?" Elwyn said. She was steadily growing angrier by the second with the stupid Mirkwood prince.

"Not quite," Legolas replied, "Not yet anyway. Maybe this quest will give you a chance to prove me wrong."

Elwyn balled her fists and glared at Legolas furiously. She opened her mouth to argue, but Aragorn, who was fortunately passing by at the time, stepped in.

"Legolas, I believe that Lord Elrond wishes to speak with you," said the ranger. The blond Elf nodded and walked off. Elwyn watched him go, her eyes blazing. She looked downright murderous.

"Prove him wrong," she muttered darkly, "I'll prove him wrong alright. Let's see how he feels when I slice his pretty little head off."

"Okay, calm down," Aragorn said, trying to soothe her, "That is a prince you are speaking of."

"I don't care! He was treating me like a little girl! You have no idea how much that annoys me."

"Elwyn, I think the whole of Middle Earth knows how much that annoys you. But can you maybe not try to kill a member of the Fellowship before we have even left? Particularly not a prince."

"Don't push your luck," Elwyn grumbled. Aragorn chuckled, enjoying watching her wrestle with her temper.

After a few minutes, the elleth seemed slightly calmer.

"Have you spoken with my sister?"

Aragorn sighed.

"Not yet."

"You should go to her. She will want to say farewell."

Aragorn nodded, and melted into the crowd of people. Elwyn lingered for a few minutes, but her fingers began to itch for a blade, and after a while, she slipped away to the training grounds.

* * *

By the next morning, the Fellowship was ready to leave. Elwyn stood beside the gates of Imladris, clad in a tunic and cloak, her swords of her back, dagger in her boot and another knife at her hip. She delicately traced the handle as she waited for their journey to begin. Her hair was tied to the side in a tail with a twisted braid at the top. A few curls had come loose, and she blew them out of her face. She was a little sad at the thought of leaving her father and sister behind, but her thirst for adventure was great. She was not about to let the fate of the world be placed into the hands of Men alone.

At that moment, her father and Arwen arrived to bid them all farewell.

"The Ring-bearer is setting out on the quest to Mount Doom," Lord Elrond announced seriously, "On you who travel with him, no oath nor bond is laid to go further than you will. Farewell. Hold to your purpose. May the blessings of Elves and Men and all Free Folk go with you."

Elwyn caught the eye of her sister.

"Be careful," Arwen mouthed. Elwyn nodded, placing a hand over her heart in a farewell gesture.

"The Fellowship awaits the Ring-Bearer," said Gandalf. Frodo took a deep breath and set out through the gates. The rest of the Fellowship followed closely behind, not looking back. The journey to save Middle Earth had begun.

* * *

**Hope you enjoyed :)**

**Please review, and if you have any questions or suggestions then please do not hesitate to PM me **

**Love Rowan x**


	6. Chapter 6

**First up, a huge thank you to everyone who has reviewed, followed and favourited my story so far! You guys are amazing!**

**Another short chapter I'm afraid, but I promise the next one will be longer**

**Please review (no flames)**

**Enjoy...**

* * *

**Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, only my OC**

Gandalf had told them that they would take the passage south to Mordor, travelling for forty days and nights. As the days went by, the Fellowship settled into a pattern. Gandalf would lead the way, as he knew the roads of Middle Earth better than anyone, even Aragorn and Elwyn. Frodo would normally follow behind. He was always close to the front so that everybody could keep an eye on him. Legolas would normally be up front too, since Elves were light of foot and could travel across the rough terrain easily. Gimli grumbled along behind them, closely followed by Merry and Pippin. Back in Rivendell, the Fellowship had been given a small pony to carry supplies, which Sam had become very attached to. He would trail along near the back, tagging the horse along with him, in front of Boromir. Lastly, Aragorn brought up the rear of the group, keeping an eye on everybody. Elwyn would have normally liked to be close to the front, but given her intense dislike of the Mirkwood Prince, she chose instead to linger at the back with Aragorn. On occasion, she would scout ahead, observing the landscape with her keen Elvish senses.

At these times, Legolas would watch her. The daughter of Lord Elrond intrigued him. She was a high-born amongst Elves, and yet acted in the most un-Elf like manner possible. Elves were generally calm-mannered, and yet she was easily riled, as he had discovered in Rivendell. He noted that she also did not use a bow, unlike him. She was also constantly moving. A skill of the Elves was that they could remain motionless for long periods of time quite happily, but Elwyn seemed unable to sit still for more than five minutes. Perhaps she had picked up these strange habits from her time spent travelling Middle Earth, away from her kin. Whatever the reason, Legolas found the elleth rather fascinating. Elwyn occasionally caught him watching her, and she would always respond with the customary glare that she saved just for him. However, this just seemed to amuse the prince, which infuriated Elwyn even more.

They travelled in this routine for many days, across great rolling hills, marshlands, plains and woodland. They saw no sign of danger in all that time, but everybody was constantly on their guard. At night, Legolas and Elwyn were placed on watch as they did not need to rest like the rest of them. Aragorn had hoped that this would help them get along, but the two Elves barely spoke to one another.

By the third week of their journey, the Fellowship had reached a rocky outcrop amongst some hills. A great mountain range gleamed white with snow in the distance. Gandalf decided to call a rest.

Sam made a small campfire and began to cook some food. Frodo simply sat on a rock near Gandalf, who was smoking his pipe. Aragorn too was also smoking, watching as Boromir began to teach Merry and Pippin how to spar. The Gondorian was not as bad as Elwyn had originally thought him to be. She knew he was still unhappy about her coming on the quest, but he had grudgingly accepted her into the group. However, Elwyn was still slightly wary of him and usually kept out of his way. But when she watched him teaching the young hobbits, encouraging them and giving them advice, she had to smile. She was not quite friends with Boromir yet, but she was starting to see him as an ally. The Elf on the other hand was another story...

A cool breeze blew through the air, ruffling Elwyn's hair. She shivered slightly, although it was nothing to do with the cold. A prickle of unease crept along her spine, and her fingers traced the knife at her hip. Nothing was of the ordinary and yet she had been on edge all day long.

She began to pace around the outcrop, feeling restless. As she passed Gandalf and Gimli, she heard the Dwarf grumbling loudly.

"If anyone was to ask my opinion, which I note they're not," he said gruffly, "I'd say we were taking the long way round. Gandalf, we could pass through the Mines of Moria. My cousin, Balin, would give us a royal welcome."

Elwyn pulled a face. Elves were much weaker in underground places. The elleth imagined being encased by miles and miles of stone, cut off from sunlight, fresh air and trees, and she gave a shudder.

The old wizard looked troubled at the Dwarf's words and he shook his head.

"No, Gimli. I would not take the road through Moria unless I had no other choice." The Dwarf appeared a little crestfallen, but Elwyn could not help feeling slightly relieved. She heard a commotion from the other side of the camp, and looked to see Merry and Pippin tackling Boromir to the ground.

"Gentlemen, that's enough," Aragorn said sternly, coming over to them. The two hobbits pulled the ranger's legs out from under him, causing him to flip over onto his back. All four of them began to wrestle, but Elwyn was no longer paying attention. The uneasy feeling had returned and every single one of her nerves were tingling. She swiftly darted up to a higher rock, scanning the horizon. However there was nothing different to see. She heard light footsteps behind her as Legolas leapt up to join her. She did her best to ignore him, but she could not help noticing that he too seemed oddly tense.

"You can feel it too, can't you?" Legolas asked her. Elwyn nodded, a little reluctantly.

"Something is not right." With all of their senses on full alert, the noise of the hobbits' wrestling was suddenly almost deafening. Legolas had turned back to them, silently wishing they would be quiet, when Elwyn suddenly pinched his arm.

"Legolas!" she hissed, an urgent warning in her voice. He looked to where she was pointing. A small black form had appeared in the sky in front of them, but it was still too far away for the Elves to see what it was. As they watched it drew closer and closer, until the others began to notice it too. The hobbits had stopped wrestling, and Boromir and Aragorn had stepped towards where the Elves were perched.

"What is that?" asked Sam.

"Nothing," Gimli said dismissively, "It's just a wisp of cloud."

"It's moving fast," Boromir said quietly, "And against the wind." Elwyn suddenly gasped as she realised what the mysterious form was. She opened her mouth in warning, but Legolas beat her to it.

"Crebain from Dunland!" he shouted.

"Hide!" Aragorn ordered.

The Fellowship scattered in all directions, extinguishing the fire and quickly gathering up their packs, before cramming themselves under bushes and rocks. Elwyn looked around wildly for somewhere to hide, until a strong hand pulled her down underneath a bush. She found herself pressed up against the Prince of Mirkwood.

"What the hell are you doing?" she demanded.

"Shh!" Legolas whispered, putting a finger to his lips.

There was a moment of deathly silence amongst the outcrop, and suddenly, the air was filled with the screeches and caws of the Crebain. The group of them circled around the outcrop several times, so close that Elwyn could hear every beat of their wings. Their calls echoed around them, and she closed her eyes, holding her breath. Her heart was thumping so hard in her chest, she was surprised that the birds could not hear it.

After what felt an age, the Crebain flew off in a new direction. Only when they were certain that they had gone, did the Fellowship finally emerge. Elwyn turned to Legolas.

"Thank you," she muttered, not quite meeting his gaze. Legola grinned.

"You're welcome."

"Just...a little warning next time, okay?" Elwyn told him, and she stalked off. Legolas sighed. She was impossible.

"What were those?" Pippin asked, looking at the now-empty sky.

"Spies of Saruman," said Gandalf bitterly, "The passage south is being watched. We must now take the path of Caradhras." Everyone turned to look up at the immense snowy mountains, towering above them.

Elwyn had a sneaking feeling that it was easier said than done.

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	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you for all the amazing reviews!**

**Here's the next chapter as promised :)**

**Includes a small Legolas & Elwyn scene**

**Enjoy...**

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**Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, only my OC**

Elwyn's suspicions has been correct. The path of Caradhras was indeed a difficult one. As they climbed higher into the mountains, the temperature dropped, making their breath steam in the air. At some points the snow was so deep, the hobbits had to be carried to avoid being lost in a drift. The only people who not struggling were herself and Legolas. Their Elven abilities allowed them to walk lightly over deep snow, and they did not feel the cold as their companions did. Legolas took to leading the group up front so he could warn them of any danger approaching. Elwyn stayed at the back, keeping a sharp eye out for any more spies belonging to Saruman.

By midday they were hiking up the summit of one of the mountains. Fortunately the snow had thinned out a bit, so the group could move along without too much difficulty. Merry and Pippin started hurling snowballs at each other, their shouts and laughter bouncing off of the snow. Elwyn hid her grin as she followed behind the group. Suddenly in front of her, Frodo slipped in the snow, and rolled backwards towards the elleth. She caught him and helped him to his feet.

"Are you alright?" she asked. Frodo nodded, but then his hand went to his neck and a look of panic flared across his face. Where was the Ring?

Elwyn spotted in a few feet in front of them, shining gold against the snow. Frodo started towards it but someone else got their first.

"Boromir," came Aragorn's voice from beside Elwyn. The two of them tensed as Boromir bent down and picked up the Ring. He dangled it on its chain and stared as if transfixed by it. He raised a gloved hand as if to touch the band of gold.

"It is a strange fate that we should suffer so much fear and doubt over so small a thing," he murmured thoughtfully. His eyes did not leave the Ring, and his hand drew closer to it, "Such a little thing..."

"Boromir!" Aragorn said sharply, snapping him out his trance. He spoke calmly but there was a dangerous edge to his voice, "Give the Ring to Frodo."

Boromir seemed to hesitate for a second, but he saw the threat in Aragorn's eyes, and noted that the ranger had a hand on his sword hilt.

"As you wish."

He slowly held the Ring out to Frodo, who snatched it up at once. Boromir laughed softly but there was no humour in his voice.

"I care not," he said lightly, ruffling Frodo's hair. He turned, slinging his shield over his back and continued walking along the mountainside. Aragorn and Elwyn exchanged a look, and then Aragorn walked ahead to the others. Elwyn could see the rest of the Fellowship watching the scene with concern. She nodded to let them know everything was fine. Looking down, she realised that she too was gripping the hilt of her knife. She slowly released her tight hold, letting her breath out in a sigh.

"Come, Frodo," she said, and the Fellowship continued on their way.

Things only got worse from then on. They were crossing a narrow ledge that ran along the mountainside when the first flakes of snow began to fall. The temperature then dropped and the wind picked up. In no time at all, the Fellowship found themselves caught in the middle of a ferocious blizzard.

"Elwyn! Legolas!" Gandalf called to the Elves, "Scout ahead." The snow was already up to his waist, and Boromir and Aragorn were carrying the hobbits as they waded through the drift. Elwyn and Legolas passed them easily, stepping up to the front of the group. The wind was now incredibly strong, and the snow was falling fast, making it near impossible to see, even with their Elven senses. But amongst the howl of the storm, Elwyn thought she could hear something. A low chant swept towards them on the wind, its words dark and ominous. Legolas halted beside her, and she knew that he could hear it too.

"Legolas?" Gandalf called, seeing the Elf stiffen.

"There is a fell voice in the air," Legolas shouted.

"It's Saruman!"

The mountain rumbled above them, sending down sheets of snow, threatening to bury them completely.

"He's trying to bring down the mountain!" Aragorn yelled above the storm, "Gandalf, we must turn back!"

"No!" the old wizard insisted. He stepped towards the ledge, arms raised and began a chant of his own, countering that of Saruman's. But the storm raged worse than ever. The sky overhead had turned unnaturally dark, and the wind swirled around the Fellowship, seeking to toss them from the mountainside. There was a loud crack as a bolt of lightning struck the peak above them. Gandalf faltered in his chanting as an avalanche of snow came loose.

"Get back!" he commanded, as it fell towards them. The entire Fellowship braced themselves against the wall of rock.

Elwyn was dimly aware of somebody pulling her backwards, as the snow poured down, an unstoppable frozen wall, burying the Fellowship completely. Then something struck her head and everything went black.

Legolas was the first to emerge from the snow. The storm had lessened slightly, making it easier to see. He heard muffled voices and looked around to see Aragorn and Boromir digging through the snow, uncovering the hobbits. Gandalf and Gimli emerged next, shaking the snow from their beards.

Legolas whirled around.

"Where is Elwyn?"

He heard a groan beside him. Elwyn appeared from the snow, wincing in pain. There was a large gash across her forehead, and blood was running down her face.

"You're hurt," Legolas said, as he helped her to her feet. Elwyn brushed him off stubbornly.

"I'm fine," she insisted, "Don't worry about me, what about them?" She looked to the hobbits with concern. They were in a bad way. Their faces were red and blue from the cold and their teeth were chattering. The four of them clung weakly to Aragorn and Boromir.

"This will be the death of the hobbits!" Boromir said, "We cannot stay here. Make for the Gap of Rohan, then take the west road to my city."

"The Gap of Rohan will take us too close to Isengard!" Aragorn argued.

"If we cannot pass over the mountain, then let us go under it," interjected Gimli, "Let us go through the Mines of Moria."

A shadow passed over Gandalf's face. It was obvious that he was reluctant to follow the Dwarf's advice, and Legolas silently agreed with him. The idea of going into the Mines scared him slightly. He would rather take his chances on the mountain.

"Let the Ring-Bearer decide," Gandalf said, "Frodo?" Everybody looked at the hobbit expectantly. He was shivering violently, and Legolas knew what he was going to say before he even spoke.

"We will go through the Mines."

Legolas groaned inwardly. Gimli, on the other hand, looked ecstatic. Gandalf sighed, his face grave.

"So be it."

Somehow the Fellowship managed to make it off of the mountain. They trekked across the foothills until it was dark, and finally came to rest on the outskirts of a small patch of woodland. Soon, they had a fire blazing, and they settled down for the night. The hobbits were asleep almost instantly. Gimli was telling stories of Moria to Aragorn and Boromir, his deep voice rumbling across the camp. Gandalf sat to the side, smoking and mumbling into his pipe, speaking in an unknown tongue.

Elwyn collapsed onto a log beside the fire and closed her eyes. Her head was throbbing painfully and it was still bleeding. She dug around in her pack, picking out a few herbs and mixing them with water. She tore off a strip of cloth from a blanket and soaked it in the solution.

"Need some help?" said a voice. Elwyn looked up to see Legolas sitting by the fire, watching her. His pale hair glinted in the firelight and his face was awash with golden light. He was wearing his usual smirk.

Elwyn rolled her eyes.

"Believe it or not, I actually know what I'm doing," she said. She lifted the rag to her head and then winced as it sent a trickle of blood running down the side of her face.

"Are you sure?" Legolas said, raising his eyebrows. Elwyn wished he would wipe that stupid grin off his face.

"I said..." she muttered through gritted teeth, "I. Am. Fine."

Legolas shrugged.

"Suit yourself," he said, "I was only trying to help. I know that the two of us didn't exactly get off to a good start." Elwyn couldn't help laughing sarcastically.

"You think?"

"Maybe I was a little quick to judge you," Legolas said thoughtfully, "You've managed to come this far."

"And I intend to go further," Elwyn said. She rinsed the blood from the cloth and held it against her wound once more. She grimaced slightly as it sent a new wave of pain shooting through her skull.

"Here," said Legolas softly, appearing beside her. He tugged the cloth from Elwyn's hands and gently pressed it against the gash.

"I said I didn't want your help," Elwyn muttered, but her head hurt too much to push the Elf away.

"You should have said something sooner," Legolas told her, examining the injury, "It is a lot worse then you led to believe."

"It's fine," Elwyn insisted wearily, "The Fellowship has bigger things to be concerned about."

"Like the Mines?"

Elwyn nodded.

"I have a bad feeling about taking that road. Who knows what kinds of things could be down there?"

"I admit, I wish we did not have to go that way," said Legolas, "I do not feel comfortable going underground."

"Nor I," Elwyn agreed, "I am not fond of dark places." Legolas's mouth twitched in amusement.

"Are you afraid of the dark, my lady?" Elwyn stared back at him coolly.

"No," she said, "But I am afraid of what lies within it."

They were silent for a few minutes as Legolas continued to clean her wound. His fingers worked swiftly, gently wiping the blood from her face.

When he was done, he slowly lowered the cloth, and shifted away from her.

"There," he said, "That will heal in no time."

"Thank you," Elwyn said, smiling slightly.

"You're welcome," said Legolas. He grinned, and then added, "It's nice to see you smile and not glare at me for once."

"Don't ruin it then," Elwyn told him, stung by his comment, "Besides, I only glare at you because..."

"Because...?"

Elwyn huffed in annoyance.

"Because...you're so...," she struggled to find the right words, "Frustrating!"

To her surprise, the Mirkwood Prince laughed at her comment.

"And you are a rather hardheaded elleth," he said, "Has anyone ever told you that?"

"It's been mentioned," Elwyn muttered.

Legolas laughed softly and rose to his feet.

"I'm going to look around," he said, "Mind your head," and with that he disappeared into the darkness. Elwyn stared after him. Why was it that she always became so defensive around him? She wasn't entirely sure that she liked Legolas yet, but her initial hatred of him seemed to have lessened slightly. But there was something about him that always made her feel slightly uncomfortable, as if he could see into her mind.

By this time, everybody was asleep. Elwyn sat in the dark alone, wondering to herself. The flames grew lower and lower until only a small pile of glowing embers remained. Elwyn stared at the warm colours as her thoughts turned to Moria and the darkness that lingered there. What sort of things would they encounter down in the heart of the Mines? What if they went in but never came out, doomed to spend the remainder of their lives trapped in the dark?

The night was not cold, but Elwyn shivered.

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**Farewell**

**xx**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey y'all**

**First day back at school :P but no homework YAY!**

**So instead, I decided to post the next chapter**

**Enjoy...**

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**Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, only my OC**

The next day, the Fellowship spent the entire time being told the tales of Moria by Gimli. He told so many different stories of the underground realm, that by mid-afternoon, Elwyn had decided that if she heard one more, she was going to take one of her knives and slit her own throat.

They stopped to rest, and Gimli started telling yet another tale. Elwyn sighed, and rolled her eyes.

"I can't take much more of this," she muttered to Aragorn. He smiled at her annoyance.

"Really? I find the Dwarf's tales quite interesting."

"We aren't even in Moria yet, and already I am sick of the place."

"At least he is entertaining the hobbits," Aragorn said. The two of them watched as Gimli described some long-gone battle whilst the halflings listened in wonder.

"I suppose it is only fair," Elwyn said, "He must have felt uncomfortable amongst the Elves in Imladris. Now I have to endure a visit to the Dwarven realm."

"You will have Legolas with you," Aragorn pointed out.

"Yes, and what a great comfort that shall be," Elwyn muttered sarcastically and Aragorn chuckled.

It seemed that the Fellowship would never reach Moria. The day stretched on, and it wasn't until nightfall that the great walls finally came into sight.

"Behold," said Gandalf, "The walls of Moria."

Elwyn had to admit that it was an impressive sight. The walls towered into the sky, a steep and ominous face of dark grey rock, stretching higher than she could see.

Their company slowly edged their way along the base of the sheer rock face. There was a lake to one side, and Elwyn felt a strange sense of foreboding as she glanced at the dark water.

"What exactly are we looking for?" she asked Gandalf.

"The door into Moria," the wizard answered.

"Dwarf doors are invisible when closed," said Gimli proudly.

"Yes, Gimli. And even their own masters cannot find them if their secrets are lost," Gandalf said.

"Why does that not surprise me?" Legolas muttered. Elwyn smirked.

Gandalf suddenly stopped outside a part of the wall that seemed a lot smoother than the rest.

"Ah, Ithildin," he said, "It mirrors only starlight...and moonlight." The old wizard looked up at the night sky expectantly, just as the clouds shifted, revealing the moon. The wall before them shone with light, engravings appeared on the wall, forming the shape of a doorway. An inscription was written around the edge.

"It reads 'The Doors of Durin, Lord of Moria; speak, friend, and enter," said Gandalf, examining the writing.

"What do you suppose that means?" Merry wondered.

"Well, it's simple really. If you are a friend, you speak the password and the doors will open." Gandalf held up his hands and spoke a few words of Elvish. The Fellowship braced themselves, but the door did not move. Gandalf looked slightly baffled for a second. He raised his staff and placed the end against the centre of the glowing door. This time he spoke in Dwarvish, but still the doors did not budge. Gandalf huffed in frustration and shoved against the doors, but it was no use.

"I once knew every spell there was in the language of Elves, Dwarves and Orcs," Gandalf muttered.

"So what are you going to?" Pippin asked.

"Knock your head against these door, Peregrin Took. And if that does not open them, then I will have you be quiet until I can guess the password."

Elwyn quietly groaned. This could take a while...

The Fellowship settled down beside the lake. Gandalf and Frodo sat together by the door, the wizard mumbling spells underneath his breath. Gimli was propped against the wall, smoking his pipe, and Legolas was leaning, completely motionless, against a tree. Aragorn was helping Sam unpack the pony, whom the hobbit had named Bill. Poor Sam was rather sad at the idea of leaving his friend.

"The Mines are no place for a pony," Aragorn explained softly. Sam gently stroked the horse.

"Bye, Bill," he whispered sadly. Aragorn slapped the horse's rump and the pony trotted away. Sam stared after it gloomily.

"Don't worry, Sam," Aragorn told him, "He knows the way home." A sudden splash made Elwyn jump. She looked around to see Merry and Pippin skimming stones into the water. She wasn't sure why, but this action made her nervous. Pippin prepared to throw another stone, and Aragorn caught his arm.

"Do not disturb the water," he muttered. There was something ominous about his tone, and Pippin looked at the lake fearfully. Elwyn stood on the bank beside the ranger, her gaze fixed on the black water. Boromir joined them, and he too seemed wary.

"It's a riddle," came a voice. Frodo had stood up and was staring at the door.

"'Speak 'friend' and enter'", he murmured thoughtfully. He turned to the wizard.

"Gandalf, what's the Elvish word for friend?"

"Mellon."

There was a loud grinding sound and the doors slowly began to open. But Elwyn was no longer paying attention. Her eyes were back on the lake. A small rippling wave had appeared near the centre and it was slowly making its way towards them...

"Come on," she said urgently, "Let's go."

Aragorn and Boromir moved with her, keeping an eye on the water, for they too had seen the wave. The Fellowship hurried through the door and into the darkness.

The inside was pitch black, the only light being a sliver of moonlight that filtered through the doorway. A strange musty, rotten smell filled the air. Gandalf began to fasten some kind of stone onto the top of his staff.

"Soon, Elves, you will enjoy the fabled hospitality of the Dwarves," Gimli's voice was booming in the silence, "Raging fires, malt beer, ripe meat off the bone. This my friends is the home of my cousin Balin and they call it a mine…a Mine!"

Elwyn felt something crunch beneath her boot, and she suddenly had a very bad feeling...

The top of Gandalf's staff suddenly illuminated, flooding the chamber with light. Elwyn looked around and her stomach clenched. The floor was littered with rotting corpses, bones and broken weapons scattered everywhere.

"This is no mine," murmured Boromir, "It's a tomb." Gimli moaned in grief.

Legolas was kneeling beside one of the corpses. He pulled an arrow from its ribcage and examined it closely.

"Orcs," he spat, straightening up and loading his bow. Elwyn, Aragorn and Boromir all drew their swords.

"We make for the Gap of Rohan," Boromir said, backing towards the door, "We should never have come here. Get out of here! Get out!"

The Fellowship edged towards the door, weapons drawn. Suddenly, Frodo fell forwards, and Elwyn gasped in horror. A large, slimy, grey tentacle had wrapped around the hobbit's ankle and was dragging him backwards towards the lake.

"Strider!" Sam yelled. Aragorn swung his sword and sliced the tentacle in half. For a second it seemed all was well, but then several more tentacles burst from the lake, knocking them all to the floor. Frodo cried out as he was hoisted into the air.

"No!" Elwyn yelled. She waded into the lake, and began slashing at the flailing limbs around her. From the corner of her eye, she saw Aragorn and Boromir doing the same, water spraying and weapons flashing. Suddenly her breath cut out as a tentacle coiled around her chest and lifted her upwards. Without thinking, Elwyn plunged her blade into the slippery arm. It released her immediately and she plummeted into the heaving water below. Spluttering for air, she rose to her feet as the lake surged as the hideous head of the creature rose to the surface. She heard the whistle of an arrow and the creature roared. Boromir slashed at the tentacle clasping Frodo and the hobbit fell down into his arms.

"Into the Mine!" Gandalf ordered. They tore towards the entrance, apart from Legolas who continued firing at the creature.

"Legolas, come on!" Elwyn shouted, pulling him through the doors. The creature began to rise out of the water, forcing itself through the narrow doorway. Rocks and dust tumbled down around the Fellowship as they ran. There was an almighty crash and then everything was silent.

Elwyn stood in the dark, breathing hard. Her hair was hanging in bedraggled curls and she was clutching Legolas's hand. She let go immediately and stepped away from him. Gandalf blew onto his staff making it light up once more. Looking at the entrance, Elwyn saw that they were now trapped inside by an impenetrable wall of rock.

"We have but one choice," said Gandalf gravely, "We must now face the long dark of Moria. Be on your guard. There are older and foul things than Orcs in the deep places of the world. It is a four day journey to the other side. Let us hope that our presence goes unnoticed."

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**Ooooooh, was that a tiny hint of Legolas & Elwyn? Perhaps... ;)**

** Mines of Moria next...**

**I'll try and update again later this week**

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**BYE!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello Everyone!**

**I'm so sorry that it has taken so long to update :( I just had a huge breakthrough with my book, (I had really bad writer's block since Christmas, and I finally came unstuck), so I have been focusing on that**

**I'm sorry :(**

**So here is the next chapter,**

**(I decided to have it switching from Elwyn and Legolas's POV, to make it more interesting)**

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Silence. A never-ending, vast, foreboding silence, broken only by the footsteps of the Fellowship as they made their way through the Mines. They travelled as quietly as they could, speaking in hushed tones. Everywhere they walked, they encountered more corpses, but not a single living being was seen.

Legolas was constantly watchful. The slightest noise set him on edge but it was never anything more than a distant rockfall or the creaking of a rusting chain. He never said, but he detested the Mines. The air was heavy with the scent of death and at all times he could feel the weight of the hundreds of feet of rock above them. He hated it down here, in the belly of the earth. He missed the trees, the sound of birds, the scent of fresh air. Giant spiders or not, he would give anything to be in Mirkwood right now...

Elwyn did not look good either. Her skin was pale, her eyes constantly scanning their surroundings and her hand never left the hilt of her knife. Legolas half-expected the fiery elleth to complain, but throughout the journey, she had remained silent, refusing to show any sign of weakness. He guessed that Elwyn's stubbornness would prevent her from ever admitting that she was afraid, but he could see it in her eyes. And yet she never spoke a word.

Legolas took a deep breath. If Elwyn could handle the Mines, then so could he. He was not about to be shown up by a headstrong, sharp-tongued elleth. He smiled slightly as he thought of their conversation at the foothills of Caradhras, and how she had told him that he frustrated her. He enjoyed the fact that he could rile her so easily. He also loved the way that whenever she got angry, her green eyes darkened to hazel, like a warning. It was always quite amusing watching the hot-headed elleth glare at him. But Legolas also remembered how Elwyn had dragged him out of the way at the entrance to the Mines. It was nice to know that she was not totally hostile towards him. Perhaps by the time this quest was over, they would be friends. The thought gave Legolas comfort in this dark place.

By the end of the third day (or as Gandalf had guessed), Elwyn was struggling. She had had enough of this gloomy underworld, with its never-ending staircases, cold rock walls, and stale air. She didn't feel strong down here. She didn't feel in control, and that was something she hated. She also felt alone.

Down here, it was like she was cut off from the rest of the world.

'How do the Dwarves stand it?' she wondered.

If one thing was certain, she never wanted to go underground again.

The Fellowship eventually reached a small, circular ledge. There were three different archways, each one leading in a different direction. Gandalf halted unexpectedly in front of them, and turned, a bemused expression on his face.

"I have no memory of this place," he said quietly. It took all of Elwyn's self control to refrain from groaning. If things had not been bad enough, now they were lost.

However, everyone remained confident that Gandalf would manage to remember the right doorway. All they had to do was wait...

Gandalf sat himself down on a boulder and pulled out his pipe. The rest of the group followed, settling themselves down on the cold stone floor. Elwyn perched on a rock, and leant back against the wall. She closed her eyes and imagined being back in Imladris, with her sister and father. For the first time since she had left, Elwyn wondered if joining the Fellowship had been such a good idea after all.

"Mind if I join you?" came a voice. Elwyn didn't have to open her eyes to know who it was. Normally she would retort, but down here, in the darkness, she felt strangely half-hearted about such an idea.

"Go ahead."

Legolas slid his bow off of his shoulder and dropped down beside her.

"How are you faring?" he asked. Elwyn picked up a stone from the ground, and tossed it from hand to hand.

"Not good," she said, after a little while, "I hate this place. I do not like what it is doing to me."

"Me neither," Legolas replied, "Ever since we entered, my senses have weakened. Elves do not belong underground." The corner of Elwyn's mouth turned upwards into a half smile.

"And yet, here we are," she said. Legolas nodded in agreement.

"Here we are." The two of them were silent for a while, staring blankly downwards into the abyss below. After several long minutes, Legolas spoke.

"You know, I never thanked you," he said. Elwyn frowned.

"For what?"

"Back at the doorway. You pulled me out of the way. If not, then I most likely would be buried under a wall of rock right now." Elwyn gave him a curious look.

"So have I proven myself yet?" she asked.

"Well, I did not say that," Legolas said, "Anyone could have pulled me inside. It is not something that requires a great amount of skill." Elwyn raised her eyebrows and Legolas braced himself for the verbal abuse that was sure to follow. But to his great surprise, the elleth simply laughed.

"You are impossible," she said, "But you're welcome." Legolas felt an unexpected surge of warmth at her smile. Elwyn was very beautiful, even by Elvish standards, but smiling like that...she was absolutely stunning.

"Aha!" Gandalf's voice echoed off the rock, pulling Legolas out of his stupor, "It's that way."

"He's remembered!" Merry exclaimed, getting to his feet.

"No," Gandalf said, "But the air doesn't smell so foul down here. When in doubt, Meriadoc, always follow your nose."

Legolas rose and slung his bow back over his shoulder. He turned to help Elwyn up, but she was already on her feet, knives at her side and her face set with determination.

"Ready?" she said to him, eyeing the dark passageway warily.

"After you," Legolas replied. Elwyn shot him a look, and followed the rest of the Fellowship into the tunnel. They followed the path, until they reached the end. It was dark but Elwyn could tell that they were in a large chamber, as their footsteps echoed and a cool breeze blew through the air.

"I will risk a little more light," muttered Gandalf. He held his staff high in the air, as it grew brighter. The staff shone like a miniature star, illuminating the gloom around the Fellowship. Elwyn stared in wonder. They were in vast hall of stone. Gigantic pillars, carved from the very heart of the mountains stretched upwards into the darkness. Elf or not, Elwyn was extremely impressed by the skill of the Dwarves. How could one race create all of this?

"Behold," said the wizard, "The great realm and Dwarf city of Dwarrowdelf."

"There's an eye-opener and no mistake," Sam muttered from behind Elwyn and she agreed with him. She had seen a lot of things on her travels, but never anything like this.

The Fellowship slowly walked through the enormous hall, drinking in everything with their eyes. Elwyn couldn't help but keep glancing upwards as she walked, marvelling at the vastness of the place. Her eyes strained to see the ceiling, but the pillars simply drifted into the dark. She stared at it thoughtfully, wondering how high it was. In her state, she paid no attention to where she was going and rammed straight into the person in front of her. Snapping out of it, she realised that she had walked straight into the back of Boromir.

"Sorry," she said, cursing inwardly, "I was distracted." Boromir sighed.

"You need to watch where you are going, my lady," he said, "It would not do to get lost in this place. Who knows what you might encounter?"

"Thank you for that comforting thought," Elwyn muttered as the Gondorian turned away.

They continued along the hall and were passing a small door that led of to a side chamber, when Gimli let out a shout. The dwarf sprinted away from the group and through the doorway.

"Gimli!" Gandalf shouted, following him. Elwyn hesitated, but had no choice but to follow. The group found themselves in a small chamber. A thick layer of dust had settled on everything, and a single beam of sunlight shone down from an impossibly high window. Elwyn stared at it wistfully, then turned her attention to the rest of the room. There were more corpses in here, their bodies laced with arrows.A large tombstone made of white marble stood in the central of the room. Gimli was kneeling in front of it, his sobs echoing around the chamber.

Gandalf strode over to the tomb and began to read the inscription engraved onto it;

"Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria. He is dead then. It is as I feared." Gimli lowered his head in sorrow, as Boromir laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. A prickle of anxiety ran down Elwyn's spine, and she instinctively laid a hand on her knife. Next to her, Legolas shifted uneasily, and she noticed that Aragorn too looked restless.

"We must move on," Legolas whispered to the ranger, "We cannot linger." He caught Elwyn's eye as if looking for reassurance, and she nodded. There was a sudden rustle, making the three of them turn around. Gandalf had given his staff and sword to Pippin and was crouching beside the tomb. The decaying skeleton of a Dwarf lay propped against it, a dusty book in its bony grasp. Gently, Gandalf prised it from the corpse's fingers, and blew a cloud of dust from the cover. He slowly opened it, revealing a few ancient pages that cracked with every touch. Flipping to the back of the book, he came across the last entry and began to read;

"They have taken the bridge and the second hall." Gimli's sobs died away as the entire Fellowship listened in anticipation. Gandalf glanced up at them and then continued to read;

"We have barred the gates…but cannot hold them for long. The ground shakes. Drums…drums in the deep." Elwyn held her breath, dreading every word, "We cannot get out. A shadow moves in the dark. We cannot get out." Gandalf paused and slowly looked up, and Elwyn felt a sense of foreboding.

"We cannot get out. They are coming..."

A sudden crash made everyone instantly whirl around. Pippin had accidentally knocked the head of a corpse down an old well. The hobbit flinched, and Elwyn winced as then the rest of the corpse tumbled down, bringing an old metal bucket and chain with it. She shut her eyes, listening to the crashes around them as it fell. After what seemed like forever, the clangs finally echoed into silence. Elwyn grimaced, and let out her breath in a sigh. So much for going unnoticed...

Poor Pippin glanced at Gandalf guiltily. The old wizard stared back incredulously.

"Fool of a Took!" he snapped, snatching his staff and sword away from the cowering hobbit, "Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity." Pippin looked close to tears, and Elwyn felt slightly sorry for him.

"Gandalf, he didn't mean it..." she started to say, but then a voice trailed off as she heard something that turned her blood to ice. She silently prayed she was mistaken, but her fears were confirmed when Pippin turned towards the well, a terrified expression on his face. For beneath them, echoing up from the deep was the unmistakable sound of a drumbeat. And as it was written in the decaying book, it could mean only one thing...

They were coming.

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**Another cliff-hanger...although I pretty sure everyone knows what's going to happen ;)**

**I hope you liked it, I will update soon**

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**Until next time, mis amigos :)**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hiya!**

**First off, I'm so sorry that I haven't updated in ages :( feel free to throw things at me. But on the bright side, I finally finished my book, after 2 long years! YAY! Now all I have to do is edit it...which is going to take ages...oh well**

**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, they really mean a lot. If you have any questions or suggestions for the story please do not hesistate to PM me, because I love hearing other people's thoughts and ideas :)**

**This one's a long chapter, so enjoy and please please please leave a review xx**

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**Disclaimer: I only own Elwin**

"Frodo!" Sam exclaimed, his eyes on the hobbit's sword. Frodo drew his blade, which was glowing bright blue.

"Orcs!" snarled Elwyn. So fast that the hobbits almost did not see it, she drew her swords. The rest of the Fellowship quickly armed themselves as the drumbeat continued to reverberate through the floor. The sound of excited shrieks filled the air as the orcs drew relentlessly closer.

"Get back!" Aragorn instructed the hobbits, "Stay close to Gandalf." Elwyn dashed to the door, joining Boromir, who was looking out. Her sensitive ears picked up the whistle of a bow, and she pulled Boromir backwards just as an arrow embedded itself in the door, right where he had been.

"They have a cave troll," Boromir announced, nodding his thanks to Elwyn.

"Barricade the door!" Gandalf ordered. Boromir began to toss Aragorn and Legolas an assortment of dusty weapons; half-rotted axes, rusting swords. Gimli clambered up onto the tomb and growled, axe in hand.

"Let them come! There is yet one Dwarf in Moria who still draws breath!" Elwyn had to admire his spirit. She looked on at their makeshift barricade and felt a flicker of panic. There was no doubt that it would not hold the orcs for long. They would have to fight. The hobbits cowered behind Gandalf, their faces pale as they grasped their small swords. They were afraid, and so was Elwyn, although she would never in a thousand years admit it.

Elwyn twirled her blades in anticipation. The shrieks and jeers of the orcs grew closer and the door began to shake. Beside her, Legolas notched an arrow in his bow, aiming at the door with a deadly intensity. His icy blue eyes narrowed in concentration. The door began to splinter. A small hole appeared, broken by a wicked curved blade. Legolas released his arrow and there was a howl as it met its target, but another orc quickly took its place.

Adrenaline surged through Elwyn's veins as the door finally burst open. She caught a snatch of black armour and the hideous faces of the orcs and then she charged.

The next few minutes were a blur. They cut down orc after orc, but as many as they killed, more seemed to keep coming. Elwyn gave up trying to think tactically and let her instincts take over. Her blades, Naur and Heleg, became lethal extensions of her arms. They flashed through the air, severing heads and slicing throats. From time to time, she managed to catch a glimpse of her friends. For their first battle, the hobbits were doing surprisingly well, stabbing and slashing with their small swords. The others hacked away at the orcs with their blades, sending the foul creatures crashing to the floor. Arrows peppered the oncoming bodies, a sign that Legolas was still alive and fighting. For some unknown reason, Elwyn felt strangely relieved at that thought.

She continued to fight with the amazing flexibility and grace that only the Elves possessed; ducking, weaving, twirling, her blades spinning in a deadly arc. She couldn't tell how long it went on for, but eventually, the number of orcs seemed to lessen slightly. And that was when the troll showed up. It smashed its way through the doorway, ten feet of dense, grey flesh with a puny head and a chain around its neck. In its hand, it grasped a club the size of a small boat. One of Legolas' arrows appeared in its shoulder, but this just angered the creature. It roared and charged towards them. Elwyn slit the throat of the orc she had been battling and turned her attention to the hideous creature. With lightning speed, she drew her knife and threw it as hard as she could. The blade buried itself up to the hilt in the troll's chest, but did nothing to slow it down. It swung its club towards Elwyn but was suddenly jerked backwards. Aragorn and Boromir had grabbed hold of the chain and were pulling on it. The troll spun in fury, raising its club.

"Look out!" Aragorn yelled. He darted backwards but Boromir was not as quick. The troll's club sent him flying across the room. Elwyn had no time to see if he was okay. A loud crash made her whirl around.

The troll, having lost its club, was now whipping its chain towards something on a ledge. The dust cleared for a second and Elwyn's jaw dropped.

"You have got to be joking."

Legolas was perched on the ledge, swiftly dodging the troll's swipes. He didn't seem at all fazed, in fact, Legolas was almost toying with the troll. The chain swung out again, wrapping around the base of a pillar. Legolas sprinted deftly up the length of the chain and straight onto the troll's back. The creature swayed and tried to swat him off. Legolas loaded his bow and sent an arrow into its skull. The troll howled and bucked, but the Elf simply jumped, landing neatly in front of Elwyn. He gave her a smug look.

"Show off," Elwyn muttered. A panicked yell caught their attention. The troll had turned its focus onto Frodo and had backed the hobbit into a corner. Elwyn sprang forwards without hesitation, vaguely aware of Aragorn beside her. She placed herself in front of Frodo and brought her blades slashing across the creature's face. The troll bellowed and lashed out. Elwyn had no time to react. The troll sent her crashing into the wall. She slumped to the floor, bruised and winded, white spots dancing in front of her eyes. As if from far away, she heard someone shout out Frodo's name, the twanging of a bow, and a loud crunch as something heavy fell to the floor. Then she felt cool hands on hers.

"Elwyn?"

The elleth groaned and shook her head, trying to clear her vision. A pair of strikingly blue eyes met her own.

"Legolas?" she mumbled dazedly.

"Are you hurt?"

Elwyn shook her head and allowed Legolas to help her to her feet. A trickle of blood ran from her lips and she wiped it away as she looked around.

The body of the troll was strewn across the floor amongst the corpses of the slain orcs. The rest of the Fellowship were gathered in the corner. Elwyn's heart lurched.

"Frodo..."

The Ringbearer was lying motionless on the ground, a spear beside him.

"Oh Valar, no," Elwyn whispered, "Please..." She stared at the hobbit in horror. Aragorn's eyes met hers and they were filled with grief. But then the halfling stirred and sat up.

"He's alive!" Sam exclaimed.

"I'm alright," said Frodo, almost in disbelief "I'm not hurt."

"You should be dead!" Aragorn said in amazement, "That spear would have skewered a wild boar."

Gandalf slowly came forwards, a twinkle in his eye.

"I think there's more to this young hobbit than meets the eye," he said. Frodo lifts his cloak to reveal a shining silver shirt of metal.

"Mithril..." breathed Gimli in an awed voice. Elwyn let out a low whistle. The worth of that shirt was great indeed.

"You are full of surprises, Master Hobbit," said Gimli. Frodo smiled but his grin faltered when the screeching of orcs filled the air once more. Torchlight flickered on the walls and the sharp clanging of weapons echoed off of the stone.

Everyone turned to Gandalf. He face was set with grim determination, and when he spoke, his voice held a quiet authority.

"To the Bridge of Khazad-dûm!"

They needed no more encouragement. In a flash, the Fellowhip were on their feet and running, out of the tomb and down the vast hall once again. The hobbits and Gimli struggled to keep up on their short legs, whilst Legolas and Elwyn were as swift as deer. As she was running, Elwyn snuck a glance over her shoulder. A large swarm of orcs were gaining on them, appearing from crevices in the ceiling, and scuttling down pillars like spiders. They were absolutely everywhere, a sea of armour and rusted weaponry. The orcs closed in on the Fellowship from every direction, forcing them into a circle, weapons drawn and completely surrounded. Elwyn looked around wildly for an escape, but she knew in her heart that they would not make it out of this alive. They were outnumbered. There had to be at least three hundred orcs, and there was only ten of them. This was the end.

The orcs drew closer, jeering and screeching. Beside Elwyn, Gimli growled and raised his axe. Elwyn pushed down her fear and shifted the blades in her hands. She was going to die, hunted down and cornered like a wild beast, in the depths of the earth. But like any wild beast, she was not going down without a fight...

The orcs surged forwards to attack. The Fellowship raised their weapons. But suddenly, there was a deep rumble at the end of the hall. A fiery red light washed over them. A wave of panic coursed through the ranks of orcs and they shrieked and chattered in fear. As fast as they had come, they retreated back up the walls, melting into the shadows. The Fellowship was alone once again. But Elwyn did not feel safe. Something had scared the orcs away, and whatever it was, she had a dreadful feeling that they were about to meet it.

"What new devilry is this?" murmured Boromir, his eyes on the red light. Elwyn glanced at Gandalf. The wizard's head was bowed and he was frowning as if deep in thought. Another tremor ran through the hall, and Gandalf lifted his grey head.

"A Balrog," he said, his voice low and ominous, "A demon of the ancient world." Elwyn's stomach lurched. This was not good. She had heard of this creature before, in the stories that Elladan and Elrohir would tell her when she was an elfling. A dark creature, born from shadow and flame, it was the subject of many of her nightmares. She had never thought that she would ever encounter one.

"This foe is beyond any of you," came Gandalf's voice, "Run!"

_If running is good enough for the orcs, then it is good enough for me_, thought Elwyn and she sprinted after the Fellowship.

She paid no attention to where she was running, just kept her eyes on Gandalf as he led the way. They ran and ran, down dark passages and staircases, and all the while, the Balrog drew ever closer. The temperature rose and the stale air became tinted with the taste of ash and smoke.

Eventually, the Fellowship reached a huge staircase, spanning across a great chasm. Without a second thought, they darted down it, only to find that part of it had collapsed, leaving a two-metre gap to the other side. Legolas leapt across without hesitation, and gestured to the wizard to follow.

"Gandalf!"

The wizard jumped across. Legolas steadied him as he landed. He looked meaningfully at Elwyn and she glared at him, before leaping across to join them. Boromir came next, clutching Merry and Pippin. Just as they landed, the staircase cracked, sending a part of it into the abyss below and widening the gap. There was a sharp snap as an arrow ricocheted off of the rock by Elwyn's feet. She looked up to see a handful of orcs on the other side of the chasm firing at them. Legolas whipped up his bow and fired back, sending them tumbling down into the darkness.

On the staircase, Aragorn grabbed a hold of Sam and threw him across the gap. Boromir caught the hobbit in his arms. Aragorn turned to Gimli, but the Dwarf held up a hand angrily.

"Nobody tosses a Dwarf!"

He jumped across, but fell short, slipping backwards. Legolas darted forwards and grabbed the Dwarf's beard, pulling him over the edge.

"Not the beard!" Gimli shouted. Under normal circumstances, Elwyn might have laughed, but now was not the time. Another part of the staircase had given way, leaving a gap that was too far to jump and too far for somebody to be thrown. Aragorn and Frodo were left on the other side. Elwyn mentally chided herself. Why had they not made sure that the hobbit was the first one over?

Another rumble shook the Mines, and a large piece of the ceiling came loose. The huge rock crashed down onto the staircase behind Aragorn and Frodo, cleaving it in two. It began to sway, threatening to topple.

"Lean forward!" Elwyn heard Aragorn instruct the hobbit. She knew his plan and instinctively stepped backwards. Using their momentum, the staircase fell forwards towards the rest of the Fellowship. As soon as it made contact, Aragorn and Frodo leapt into the waiting arms of Boromir and Elwyn, and then they all tore after Gandalf.

Flames had appeared, sending waves of heat over them as they ran. Elwyn had almost forgotten about the Balrog, but the reminder filled her with fear. It was close. She forced herself to run faster, and suddenly the bridge was in sight; a narrow strip of stone across the dark abyss below. One by one, they ran across, stopping when they reached the other side. Elwyn spun around in confusion. Where was Gandalf? Then she saw him and she froze.

The wizard was standing alone of the bridge, staff and sword in hand. Before him stood the Balrog, the dark and terrible creature that Elwyn had only ever seen in her darkest dreams. Before her now, it was even more terrifying, with its great black horns, and flaming eyes. Gandalf stood his ground defiantly.

"You cannot pass!" he roared, his voice booming through the air. The Balrog hissed and spread its wings in a terrifying display. Gandalf stayed exactly where he was, raising his staff.

"I am the servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the Flame of Anor…" His staff began to shine with light. "The Dark Fire will not avail you, Flame of Udûn!" The Balrog bellowed and drew a fearsome sword that glowed red-hot. An orb of light formed around Gandalf. The Balrog brought its sword crashing down onto the wizard and Elwyn cried out. But the sword shattered into a million pieces, sending sparks flying. The Balrog snarled, now wielding a fiery whip.

"Go back to the Shadow!" Gandalf commanded. The Balrog stepped forwards, making the bridge crack. Gandalf raised his sword and staff together.

"YOU. SHALL. NOT. PASS!" he thundered, and he drove his staff down onto the bridge. The Balrog took another step forward. There was a loud crack and the end of the bridge collapsed. The Balrog howled and tumbled down, flailing into the abyss. All was silent.

Gandalf turned around wearily to face the Fellowship. Suddenly the Balrog's whip lashed out, tightening around the wizard's ankle and dragging him to the edge of the bridge, sending his sword and staff spinning out of his hands. Elwyn stood frozen, unable to move. Next to her, Frodo darted forwards, only to be caught by Boromir.

"Gandalf!" he screamed in desperation. The wizard was clinging onto the edge of the bridge, his face contorted with effort. Gandalf slumped and sent them all one last painful glance.

"Fly, you fools," he whispered and he let go of the ledge, spinning down and disappearing into the darkness below.

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**Nooooooo, not Gandalf :( he is too badass to die!**

**Thank you for reading, I will try and update next week**

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**Please Review and I will see you all next time **

**Rowan :)**


	11. Chapter 11

**Thanks for all your support guys :)**

**Here's the next chapter...**

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**Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings**

Elwyn was dimly aware of someone calling her name, but she could not respond. She could only stare, frozen stiff at the spot where Gandalf had vanished. Shock had rendered her completely motionless, and she stood rigid, her face set in a mask of horror.

"Elwyn!" Aragorn's voice brought her sharply back to reality. The rest of the Fellowship were already running, Boromir dragging a screaming Frodo with him. Arrows continued to rain down on them. Aragorn tugged Elwyn's hand and she forced her immobile limbs to move, sprinting up the stairs after him.

The sunlight stabbed at their eyes as they finally reached the end of the Mines. But there was no rejoicing. The loss of Gandalf had struck them hard, and for the first time, the truth dawned on Elwyn; The Wandering Wizard was gone.

The remaining members of the Fellowship gathered on a rocky plain just outside of the doors. Boromir was restraining Gimli who was trying to charge back into the Mines. Sam had crumpled to the ground, sobbing, as had Merry and Pippin who were comforting each other. Elwyn was determined to remain standing. She stood alone, her body numb with grief and shock. How could it be that Gandalf was dead? In her eyes, he was not allowed to die. They needed him, and now he was gone. Although she had seen it many times before, Elwyn still did not understand death. She was an immortal being - she would never fall sick or age. Life was fragile, able to be snatched away in a split second and that both confused and terrified her. It suddenly struck her that the people around her now would one day age and wither, with the exception of Legolas. They would die, and she would continue living. The death of an Elf was a rare thing. There were only two ways in which it could happen; they could be slain in battle, or die of a broken heart.

Elwyn looked over at Legolas. The Elf was staring at the ground, grief etched across his face. His brow was creased and Elwyn realised that he must be feeling exactly the same way that she was. He did not understand death either. Aragorn, on the other hand, seemed relatively calm but she knew that he was sharing the same pain with them.

"Legolas, get them up," he instructed them, nodding towards the hobbits.

"Give them a moment, for pity's sake!" Boromir cried.

"We cannot stay here. By nightfall these hills will be swarming with orcs," Aragorn said, "We must reach the woods of Lothlórien."

Elwyn's head snapped up.

"Lothlórien?" She repeated. Aragorn nodded.

"You know we will be safe there. Come, Elwyn, help me get the hobbits up..."

Legolas had managed to get Merry and Pippin to their feet. Elwyn slowly walked over to Sam and laid a hand upon his shoulder.

"Up," she said softly. Sam rose unsteadily, his face still stained with tears. Elwyn desperately wanted to comfort him, but she had no idea what to say. She had never understood emotions that well and her own grief was making it hard to think properly. She heard Aragorn calling Frodo's name and looked around for him. The halfling stood alone a little way away, tears coursing freely down his face. Aragorn went over to him and spoke a few words, so softly that even Elwyn could not hear them. Not that she wanted to.

Eventually they were running once again towards the great forest of Lothlórien. Running was able to distract Elwyn from her thoughts and she focused on the steady beat of her heart and the sound of her feet hitting the ground. Gandalf's passing still gnawed at her insides, but she pushed the pain down. A time for mourning would come later. Right now, they had to move.

The sun was beginning to dip towards the horizon by the time the Fellowship reached the outskirts of the woods. The trees stood tall, their golden leaves slowly drifted to the forest floor. It was eerily quiet, but Elwyn had the sneaking feeling that they were being watched. Gimli's booming voice broke the silence.

"Stay close, hobbits. They say a great sorceress dwells in these woods. An Elf-witch of terrible power. All who lay eyes upon her fall under her fall under her spell, and are never seen again."

"I would watch your tongue, Gimli," Aragorn warned him.

"And why is that?" huffed the Dwarf.

"Because..." Elwyn cut in, "The Elf of which you speak is my grandmother, the Lady Galadriel." Gimli muttered something that sounded like a reluctant apology, but as she turned away, Elwyn heard him mutter to the halflings once again;

"Well, here's one Dwarf she won't ensnare so easily. I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox." Without warning, a golden arrow appeared in front of the Dwarf's face. From the trees around the Fellowship sprung a group of Elves, armed with bows. They stood silent, poised to shoot, observing their company with wary eyes. Elwyn absentmindedly moved to grasp her knife for reassurance, and was shocked to find it wasn't there. Groaning internally, she remembered exactly where is was; still embedded in the cave troll, deep in the Mines. She mentally chided herself for being so foolish. At least she still had Naur and Heleg. A cool, arrogant voice dragged her from her thoughts;

"The Dwarf breathes so loud we could have shot him in the dark." A tall ellon stepped out from the trees. He had pale golden hair and looked over at the Fellowship with cold amusement. Elwyn recognised him as being Haldir, the head Marchwarden of Lothlórien. Beside her, Gimli growled in annoyance.

"Aragorn, these woods are perilous. We should turn back," he said. Haldir gave him a disapproving look.

"You have entered the realm of the Lady of the Wood. You cannot go back."

He led them through the forest. Elwyn trailed near the back, feeling slightly nervous. She had only met Lady Galadriel once, in Rivendell, when she was a young elfling. Would her grandmother approve of her decision to join the Fellowship? Or would she consider it too dangerous and send her back to Rivendell? What would she say?

The day quickly melted into twilight as Haldir took the Fellowship through the trees, when he suddenly stopped and turned to face them.

"Mae govannen, Legolas Thranduilion. (Welcome, Legolas, son of Thranduil)" he said to the blond Elf. He then turned to Elwyn, "A an lle, Hiril Elwyn. Vanimle sila tiri. (And to you, Lady Elwyn. Your beauty shines bright)." Elwyn resisted the very human urge to roll her eyes and simply nodded her greeting, not trusting herself to speak.

"Govannas vîn gwennen le, Haldir o Lórien. (Our Fellowship stands in your debt, Haldir of Lórien)" said Legolas.

"A Aragorn in Dúnedain, istannen le ammen (And Aragorn of the Dúnedain, you are known to us)" Haldir continued.

Aragorn murmured a reply but was interrupted by Gimli;

"So much for the legendary courtesy of Elves," the Dwarf said loudly, "Speak words we can all understand."

Haldir gave Gimli a hard look.

"We have not had dealings with Dwarves since the dark days," he said acidly. Elwyn winced inwardly. This could get ugly...

And you know what this Dwarf says to that?!" said Gimli crossly, "Ishkwaqwi ai durugnul! (I spit upon your grave!)"

Elwyn had no idea what the Dwarf had said, but it was obviously insulting as Aragorn clenched Gimli's shoulder and hissed "That was not so courteous."

Elwyn grimaced at the cold stare Haldir gave them. Legolas on the other hand looked faintly amused. The Marchwarden gave them all an icy look.

"You bring great evil with you," he said, "You can go no further." And with these words, he stalked off.

"Haldir, daro! (Wait!)" Elwyn said, hurrying after him, with Aragorn hot on her heels.

"Haldir, please," the ranger said, "Boe ammen verian lîn. (We need your protection)."

"I am sorry," Haldir said, "I cannot help you." He turned to leave. Elwyn felt her temper flare and she roughly grabbed Haldir's arm.

"And would you be the one to deny passage to the granddaughter of Lady Galadriel?" she said angrily, "I believe that as her kin, I have the right to enter, and I will not leave the rest of this company behind." Never before had Elwyn ever used her title to get something she wanted. But they were desperate. Luckily, it seemed to work.

Haldir sighed in defeat.

"Very well. You will follow me." He beckoned the rest of the Fellowship and led them through the forest. They reached an elegantly carved staircase that wound high into the canopy and ascended into unseen world above. Elwyn felt her nerves grow but she was determined not to show it. At the top was the most breathtaking sight imaginable; a shining silver city stretching across the treetops. It seemed to glow as if it was made of starlight. Never before had they seen such a beautiful place.

"Caras Galadhon" Haldir stated proudly, "The heart of Elvendom on Earth. Realm of the Lord Celeborn, and Galadriel, Lady of Light."

Haldir brought them to the base of a glimmering staircase. A dazzling white light emitted from the top as two beings slowly made their way down the steps towards the Fellowship. Gradually the light died down, and they were able to see the Lord and Lady of Lothlórien clearly;

Lord Celeborn stood regal and proud, with flaxen hair and serious, brooding eyes. He looked over the Fellowship, his expression unreadable. Next to him stood Lady Galadriel. She was the most beautiful being that any of them had ever laid eyes upon. She was clad in a stunning white gown that made her seem as if she were glowing. Her deep sapphire eyes sparkled like stars and held a deep wisdom. Long waves of hair fell gracefully to her waist, like rivers of spun gold. Elwyn bowed her head. She was beginning to suddenly feel very out of place, with her messy auburn curls and her travel attire that was caked with blood and dust and her face streaked with grime. She shifted uncomfortably before the two Elves, who were silently observing their granddaughter with well-hidden curiosity. Finally, Lord Celeborn spoke;

"The Enemy knows you have entered here." Nobody spoke as and so he continued, "What hope you had in secrecy is now gone. Nine there are here. Yet ten there were, set out from Rivendell. Tell me, where is Gandalf? For I much desire to speak with him…I can no longer see him from afar…"

Galadriel's piercing eyes swept over the group, taking in their grief-ridden faces and she answered Celeborn's question herself;

"Gandalf the Grey…did not pass the borders of this land." Sorrow tinged her voice. "He has fallen into shadow."

Legolas, who had been strangely quiet, suddenly spoke up, "He was taken by both shadow and flame: a Balrog of Morgoth. For we went needlessly into the net of Moria."

His voice faltered and he dropped his gaze. Elwyn was suddenly overtaken by the strange urge to take his hand, to comfort him. She mentally shook herself. What was the matter with her? She noticed Galadriel watching her, but the elder elleth did nothing. She spoke to the group again, "Needless were none of the deeds of Gandalf in life. We do not know yet his whole purpose." She smiled at Legolas, then looked to the Dwarf, whose head was bowed in grief. "Do not let the great emptiness of Khazad-Dûm fill your heart, Gimli, son of Glóin."

Gimli's head snapped up, and he stared into the unearthly eyes of the Lady.

"For the world had grown full of peril. And in all lands, love is now mingled with grief."

Her gaze landed on Boromir. His mouth trembled, and he broke down into tears.

Celeborn sighed. "What now becomes of the Fellowship? Without Gandalf, hope is lost."

Galadriel smiled, and it filled them all with great comfort. "The quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little…and it will fail to the ruin of all. Yet…hope remains, while the company is true. Do not let your hearts be troubled. Go now, and rest. For you are weary with sorrow and much toil."

She smiled again. "Tonight, you will sleep in peace."

Several attendants were called forwards and the Fellowship were led away to a network of talans, to bathe and rest. A pretty blonde elleth came up to Elwyn.

"Lady Elwyn?"

"Yes?"

"My name is Meril. If you follow me, I will show you to your lodgings."

"Thank you."

Elwyn followed Meril up several flights of stairs until they reached a small talan.

"These shall be your chambers," Meril said, "Is there anything else, my lady?"

"No, that's fine," Elwyn said, "Thank you." Meril curtsied and left. Elwyn entered the talan. Inside were two rooms, one containing a bed and the other, a bath tub. Someone had already drawn her a bath. Elwyn laid her weapons on the bed and stripped off her clothing before slipping into the steaming water. She submerged herself completely, allowing the weeks of dirt to dissolve into the sweet-smelling oils. Eventually she emerged and dried off. Somebody had taken away her dirty torn clothes and laid out a pale blue tunic and leggings. Elwyn was thankful it was not a dress. She quickly dressed and impatiently pushed her damp curls out of her face. She left her hair down. She had never been fussed about the way she looked, yet another un-Elf-like trait she possessed, as Elves were renowned for their perfection, something that Elwyn seemingly did not embrace.

She was just wondering if she should go and find her friends when there was a knock at the door.

"Come in!"

Meril entered and nodded in greeting.

"Lady Elwyn, I've been sent to collect you. Lady Galadriel wishes to speak with you...alone."

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**Another cliff-hanger, I'm sorry :P**

**Also I apologise for not having updated for so long, but exam season has started so I've been busy with revision and I also have a huge final piece in art to do, but I will update whenever I get the chance, just hang in there !**

**Thank you to everyone, please please please leave a review...they mean so much!**

**RR xx**

**P.S Also, something went horribly wrong with my PC and the whole story was deleted (noooooo!) luckily the chapters were saved though, so I was able to update it again, but sorry :( and I also changed the spelling of Elwyn's name because I think that it now looks more Elvish**


	12. Chapter 12

**To brankel1, x willette x, Togira Ikonoka Shur'tugal and crescentmoonthemage**

**Thank you so much for your lovely reviews :)**

**Here's the next chapter, hope you enjoy**

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Elwyn nervously followed Meril out of the room and down the shining staircases until they reached the forest floor. A low, haunting melody echoed from the trees around them. The Elves were singing. Their words spoke of tragedy and loss and Elwyn knew that they were singing for Gandalf. Her throat tightened with grief. The pass of the Grey Wizard was still painful to think about.

She followed Meril through the towering trees until they reached a small clearing. A shaft of moonlight filtered down to the forest floor, giving the surroundings an eerie silver glow.

"I will leave you here, my lady," Meril said. She bowed her head and disappeared back into the trees. Elwyn tugged the ends of her hair - something she did whenever she felt edgy. She had no idea why she had been summoned. Did Galadriel disapprove of her insistence to join the Fellowship? What if she forced Elwyn to return to Rivendell?

"Do not fret, young one. I have no intention of sending you back to Imladris." Elwyn jumped out of her skin. Galadriel was standing mere metres away from her, as if appearing from thin air.

"My-my lady?" Elwyn stammered, trying to get over her shock. Galadriel smiled.

"You need not worry," she told the young elleth, "I do not disapprove of your choice and I am not here to send you back home." Elwyn felt relief rush through her, but it was also mixed with confusion.

"Then why am I here?" she asked. Galadriel said nothing, but simply observed Elwyn with her striking eyes. Elwyn shifted uncomfortably, feeling slightly embarrassed under the older elleth's piercing gaze.

"You have grown, penneth (little one)," she said after a long while, "You have seen a lot for one so young." Elwyn was not quite sure how to respond.

"You made a dangerous decision, joining the Fellowship," Galadriel continued, "But a right one nonetheless."

Elwyn looked at her in surprise.

"You mean..."

Galadriel smiled.

"Yes, Elwyn. Your fate is now joined to that of the Fellowship. This is the path that you were meant to take." She was silent for a moment, her expression unreadable as her eyes washed over Elwyn.

"Do not fear, child," Galadriel said warmly, "You do not have to feel that you must prove yourself to your companions. Most have come to accept you, and those who do not will do so in time. But be warned..." Her voice suddenly took on a solemn and ominous tone, "The power of the One Ring is growing. You have been fortunate so far, but soon now, the temptation will be strong. You have seen this." Elwyn nodded, thinking of Boromir on the mountaintop.

"Be watchful of the Son of Gondor," Galadriel said gravely, "His control is weakening."

"On the Pass of Caradhras, he was tempted by the Ring," Elwyn murmured.

"Yes," Galadriel replied, nodding her fair head, "A shadow has fallen over these lands, and into the hearts of Men. You must be careful."

"I will," Elwyn agreed. Galadriel smiled again.

"Go now and rest," she said, "Remember what I have said."

Elwyn bowed her head and started walking from the clearing.

"Elwyn!" Galadriel called softly after her. Elwyn turned.

"Yes?"

There was a hint of slyness in Galadriel's eyes, as if the older elleth knew something that Elwyn did not.

"I know that you tend to be rather headstrong," Galadriel said, "But you will need to learn to listen to what your heart tells you."

"What?" asked Elwyn. Galadriel just gave her another mysterious smile.

"I will say no more," she said. Elwyn frowned, her mind burning with a thousand questions she was desperate for the answers to. She turned back to confront her grandmother, but the clearing was empty. Lady Galadriel had disappeared.

* * *

Elwyn rose early the next morning. A long silver tunic and black leggings had been laid out for her. She dressed quickly and pulled back her hair into a tight braid. Sheathing her blades, she hurried down the staircase and headed off into the trees, stopping only to ask Meril for directions. Sunlight streamed through gaps in the leaves, casting shadows onto the leafy ground. Birds sung in the canopy above, but apart from that everything was quiet. Following a narrow, winding path, she eventually wound up in another clearing. It was bigger than the one she had spoken to Galadriel in. A row of targets lined one side. Elwyn felt a flicker of faint annoyance as she saw a familiar blond Elf lined up before them. She had hoped the training grounds would be empty.

Legolas drew back his bow, eyes narrowed in concentration. Breathing out, he released the arrow and was rewarded with a surge of satisfaction as it pierced the centre of the target.

"Do you ever miss?" came a voice. He whipped around to see Elwyn watching him, a sarcastic smirk on her face. Legolas shrugged, lowering his bow.

"Only when I wish to," he said with a grin.

"Why would you ever wish to miss?" said Elwyn.

"You would be surprised," Legolas replied. He looked over to her, noting her weaponry.

"I see we both had the same thought." Elwin pulled on the end of her braid, nodding.

"If I may ask," Legolas said, his gaze on her blades, "Why do you not use a bow?" Elwyn frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"It is a traditional Elvish weapon, is it not? And yet, I have never seen you shoot." Elwyn considered telling Legolas the truth; she was a terrible archer. But seeing as he would most likely wind her up even more than usual, she lied instead.

"There is no particular reason," she said, "I just prefer the weight of a blade in my hands. I believe that they take more skill to handle." Legolas crossed his arms.

"Is that so?"

"Indeed," Elwyn said teasingly, "It means you have to be close to your enemy to kill them, not hiding up a tree somewhere far away."

Legolas gave her an amused look.

"Or perhaps," he said, "You simply do not have good aim." Elwyn huffed in annoyance.

"Give me your knife," she told him. Legolas unsheathed his dagger and handed it over. Elwyn stood in front of one of the targets, balancing the blade in her hand. Then with lighting-fast fluidity, she hurled the knife. It spun through the air and stuck fast into the dead centre of the target. Legolas raised his eyebrows.

"You were saying?" Elwyn said sweetly, turning back to face him.

"That was...impressive," Legolas admitted, "You truly have a gift." Elwyn blushed slightly.

"Thank you," she said, feeling oddly pleased, "I could say the same for you about the bow."

She tugged the dagger from the board and held it out to Legolas. He took it from her, and weighed the blade thoughtfully in his palm.

"What about you?" asked Elwyn.

"Hm?"

"You have blades too." Elwyn gestured to the two knives strapped to Legolas' quiver, "Do you know how to use them?"

"Shall we see?" Legolas challenged. He drew his knives, and Elwyn did the same with her swords.

The blades of Legolas' knives were several inches shorter than Elwyn's. Nevertheless, they had a deadly beauty to them, with elegantly carved handles of smooth white wood, and engravings of Elvish script along the blade. They looked as if they had hardly ever been used. Elwyn looked down at Naur and Heleg. Although their blades were clean, it was obvious that they were a lot more battered. The leather grips had been worn down over the years to fit her hands perfectly, and were flecked with mud and blood and dust from her travels. Elwyn twirled them in her hands, enjoying their familiar weight.

"Ready, my lady?" Legolas asked teasingly. Elwyn sent him a mock-glare.

"Please don't call me that." She lunged at him experimentally, swinging her blades across. Without so much as a blink, Legolas deflected her attack and forced Elwyn's blades back to her side. She grinned and struck again, twirling around as their blades clashed. All sense of time was lost as the two Elves fought, the morning soon drifting into the afternoon. It wasn't until the sun was high in the sky that they finally stopped.

Elwyn lowered her blades and blew a few stray curls out of her face, slightly breathless.

"Well, you definitely have some skill," she laughed, sheathing her blades once again.

"Impressed?" Legolas smirked.

"I did not say that."

The two of them sat down against the trunk of one of the great mallorn trees. Legolas leaned back and contentedly closed his eyes. He felt the tree behind them stir peacefully, something that only a wood-Elf would notice.

"You must like it here," said Elwyn. Legolas opened his eyes.

"I do," he said, "I did not realise how much I missed the trees. They remind me of the ones in my own home."

"Do you miss it?"

"Yes. And what about you? Do you miss Imladris?"

Elwyn sighed.

"A little. But I much prefer travelling. I cannot stand to be in one place for too long."

"So I've noticed," Legolas commented, "You are rather different from any other Elf that I have ever known."

Elwyn laughed.

"It must be from all those nasty human habits that I picked up from Aragorn. I spend far too much time with him."

"You two do seem close."

"We are. I have known him for a long time. I would follow him anywhere."

Legolas suddenly stood up and picked up his bow.

"We should probably go back to the others. We have been gone for half the day." He offered his hand to Elwyn and she allowed him to help her to her feet.

"If they ask where we were," she said slyly, "I will simply tell them how I was busy defeating you." Legolas raised an eyebrow.

"And if I get there first?"

Elwyn scowled.

"Don't you dare, Greenleaf."

Legolas gave her a devilish grin. His impossibly blue eyes sparked with amusement. Looking at him, Elwyn felt an unexpected surge of warmth. She had no idea why and she wasn't sure if she liked it or not.

"I wouldn't dream of it," said Legolas, and he and Elwyn trailed back through the trees in search of their friends.

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**Hope you liked it, please leave a review :)**

**Unfortunately I may not be updating for a while as I have a whole GCSE exam week starting soon :S (I'm scared )**

**I will update as soon as I can**

**Thank you and please please please review :)**


	13. Chapter 13

**Count yourselves lucky guys because I am posting this right in the middle of my exam week (which is horrible) I've had six exams in the last two days**

**:(**

**Maybe some reviews will cheer me up *wink wink* ;)**

**Enjoy !**

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Legolas and Elwyn reappeared back at the camp where the rest of the Fellowship were milling about. The hobbits and Gimli were smoking by the empty campfire. Boromir sat on his own, looking deep in thought. Aragorn was sharpening his sword with a whetstone and he looked up as they approached.

"Where have you two been?" he said.

"Proving a point," said Elwyn, smirking, "I am better with a blade than Legolas."

Aragorn laughed as Legolas shot Elwyn an indignant look.

"Oh, you know it's true," she told him, "The size of your ego must be knocked down somehow. You are still the best archer in Middle Earth." Legolas shrugged and looked slightly pleased with himself.

"So..." said Elwyn, settling herself down by Aragorn, "Where do we go from here?" Aragorn put down his whetstone.

"Lady Galadriel has given us boats to journey along the Anduin, to the Falls of Rauros. From then on, we go on foot."

Elwyn nodded.

"How soon do we leave?"

"Tomorrow morning."

* * *

At dawn the next day, the Fellowship were already packed and ready to move out. The ten of them were assembled on the riverbank. Celeborn was talking quietly to Aragorn, in an ominous tone that filled Elwyn with unease. As she observed them, she noticed her grandfather press a curved dagger into the ranger's hands and murmur a warning. She was jolted from her thoughts by a soft pair of hands brushing against her. Elwyn started, but quickly realised that it was only Meril fastening a cloak around her neck. It fell gently around her shoulders, a soft grey-green material that was both light and warm.

"I wish you luck in your quest, Lady Elwyn," Meril said, bowing her head.

"Thank you," Elwyn said, "...for everything." The elleth had been incredibly generous and helpful to her. That morning, she had kitted Elwyn out in a dark green shirt, leather tunic that was cinched at the waist, breeches and boots. She had also insisted on doing Elwyn's hair, pulling the top half back from her face with several braids and leaving the rest to fall loose.

These gestures had been very sisterly and it reminded Elwyn of Arwen. She felt a pang of sadness as she realised that she missed her sister.

Meril smiled and with one last curtsy, she vanished. Elwyn sighed. She felt a little sad at the thought of leaving the beauty of Lothlórien, but the longer they remained, the stronger the temptation would grow.

Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn appeared, joining the Fellowship.

"Never before have we clad strangers in the garb of our people," Celeborn said solemnly, "May these cloaks help shield you from unfriendly eyes."

Lady Galadriel then presented all of them with individual gifts. To Legolas, she gave a bow of the Galadrim, and Elwyn had to suppress a smirk at the sight of absolute wonder and delight upon his face. Boromir was given a golden belt, and Merry and Pippin, two short daggers of Elvish make. Sam received a length of enchanted Elvish rope, though the hobbit looked longingly at the weapons his two friends held, and to Frodo, she gave a vial of liquid that faintly glowed. Then Lady Galadriel stopped in front of Elwyn.

"And to you, my child," she said, "I give you this." She held out the most beautiful blade that Elwyn had ever seen, wrapped in a navy sheath. Elwyn gently took hold of it and held it experimentally in her hand. The dagger was a perfect balance.

"I understand you lost your knife in Moria," said Galadriel, "I hope that this will serve you well."

"It will, my lady," Elwyn said confidently, "Thank you." Galadriel smiled at her granddaughter's enthusiasm.

"It's name is Calad êg," she said.

"Light thorn," Elwyn translated. It was a fitting name for the blade. Elwyn bowed her head.

"Thank you, my lady."

Galadriel kissed her forehead, and Elwyn heard the whisper of the elleth in her mind;

"Remember, little one - listen to your heart."

The Lady of Light then moved to talk to Gimli and Aragorn, but Elwyn's brain was buzzing too much to bother to listen. What did Galadriel mean?

All too soon, the Fellowship had piled into the boats; Elwyn sharing with Legolas and Gimli. They cast off, the boats slicing silently through the water. The last thing that Elwyn saw of the realm of Lothlórien, was the Lady of Light standing on the shoreline, raising her hand in farewell and shining like a twilight star.

* * *

Elwyn had seldom been on a boat before, and so she allowed Legolas to control their vessel. She had always ridden or walked on her travels. She was not sure if she liked this new experience or not. To begin with, the gentle sway of the boat had made her feel slightly nauseous, but as they approached the Great River, she began to get used to the motion and felt a little better.

In front of her, Gimli sighed, breaking the long silence.

"I have taken my worst wound at this parting, having looked my last upon that which is fairest," he said sadly, "Henceforth I will call nothing fair, unless it be her gift to me."

"What was her gift?" Legolas asked.

"I asked for one hair from her golden head," replied Gimli, a little wistfully, "She gave me three."

"Am I to understand it," Elwyn cut in, tilting her head thoughtfully, "That you are infatuated with my grandmother, Gimli?"

She heard what sounded like muffled laughter from Legolas as Gimli blushed underneath his beard.

"I said nothing of the sort!" he insisted. Elwyn raised her hands in defense.

"I meant no offence, Master Dwarf," she said teasingly, "I am only injured that I was overlooked."

Gimli chuckled.

"Then I apologise, lass. Next time, I will be sure to ask for some of your hair."

"I think you have enough red hair as it is," Elwyn said, eyeing his coppery beard, "Best ask a blonde."

She glanced behind her.

"What about Legolas? He could give you a few strands."

"I'll do nothing of the sort!" Legolas retorted.

Their boat erupted into laughter, bouncing off of the water and resulting in a few confused looks from the other two boats.

However, as the time passed, the boating experience lost its merriment to Elwyn. It was driving her crazy sitting still for so long. She trailed her hands in the water, wishing she could get out of the boat and stretch out. Unfortunately, as they went further downstream, the water gradually became slightly faster and Elwyn's head began to spin once again. She groaned and closed her eyes, trying to concentrate on something, anything else.

"I have decided," she muttered to no one in particular, "That I really hate boats." Legolas gave her a sympathetic look, but she could tell that he was hiding a smile underneath. It didn't make her feel any better. She was provided with a distraction a few hours later when two immense stone statues appeared.

"The Argonath," breathed Legolas. Elwyn nodded.

"Aragorn's kin."

The three boats passed under the shadow of the statues. Elwyn caught Aragorn staring up at them, with an expression of pride upon his face, and she smiled to herself. It was short-lived however when a sudden icy tingle ran down her spine. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up and her fingers unconsciously crept towards her knife handle.

Turning to Legolas, she saw that he had paused in his rowing, and was intently scanning the trees that lined the shore. His eyes were narrowed, every sense on red alert. The two of them exchanged an uneasy look, sharing the same thought; something was following them.

A few hours later, the river widened into a lake. In the distance, a white wall of mist marked where the Falls of Rauros began. It was here that they finally pulled their boats into shore. Elwyn stumbled out, stretching out her cramped limbs and thoroughly glad to be back on solid ground again. She barely noticed Legolas dart past her and stop at the edge of the treeline, eyes fixed on the forest.

Everybody else gathered on the shore, unloaded the boats and stretching their muscles.

"We cross the lake at nightfall, hide the boats and continue on foot," came Aragorn's instructions, "We approach Mordor from the north."

Gimli, who seemed to share Elwyn's dislike of boats and so was feeling rather cranky, looked less than pleased by this idea.

"Oh, yes?! It's just a simple matter of finding our way through Emyn Muil? An impassible labyrinth of razor sharp rocks! And after that, it gets even better!" Elwyn glanced at him, enjoying his rambling, "Festering, stinking marshlands as far as the eye can see!"

Aragorn gave him a cool look.

"That is our road. I suggest you take some rest and recover your strength, Master Dwarf."

"Recover my -" Gimli grumbled indignantly.

Legolas had returned from his scout and went straight over Aragorn's side. Elwyn slipped over to join them.

"We should leave now," the Elf was saying.

"No," Aragorn insisted, "Orcs patrol the eastern shore. We must wait for cover of darkness."

"It is not the eastern shore that worries me." Legolas muttered, "A shadow and a threat have been growing in my mind. Something draws near... I can feel it."

Aragorn turned expectantly to Elwyn, silently asking her if she felt the same way. She glanced warily at the trees and had opened her mouth to speak, when Merry's voice suddenly piped up;

"Where's Frodo?"

The three of them whirled around, scanning their surroundings, but the dark-haired hobbit had disappeared.

"Where would he have gone...?" Elwyn's question died in her throat as she saw something that made her heart sink. Boromir's shield lay propped against a rock. But its owner was nowhere to be found. She met Aragorn's concerned gaze and knew that he had come to the same conclusion that she had. Galadriel's warning flashed through Elwyn's mind.

"We need to find them," she stated urgently.

"Stay here," Aragorn told the three remaining hobbits. He dashed off into the trees. Elwyn was about to follow when Legolas grabbed her arm.

"Wait..." he said, body tense. Elwyn turned her head to where the prince was looking.

"Can you hear that?"

Elwyn stood still as stone, listening hard. And then she heard it; the faint clashing of armour and thundering footsteps.

"Are those orcs?" she murmured, her hands creeping towards her dual swords. Legolas shook his head.

"Uruk-hai."

Elwyn's blood ran cold. The Uruk-hai were feared throughout Middle Earth. Half orc and half goblin, they stood well over six feet tall, made of pure muscle and designed to kill. They were an enemy to all that was good in the world and those who crossed their path seldom lived to tell the tale.

"Aragorn..." whispered Elwyn in horror.

Without a second thought, she drew Naur and Heleg, sprinting into the trees, Legolas and Gimli inches behind.

As Elwyn ran, she strained her ears, hoping to pick up a clue to the Uruk-hai's whereabouts. Adrenaline charged through her as she heard the unmistakable sound of swords clashing in a clearing a few metres ahead. There was a yell and she instantly recognised it as Aragorn. Beside her, Legolas notched an arrow in his bow and Gimli raised his axe. Then the three of them burst into battle.

Elwyn spun around, slashing an Uruk across the chest and stabbing it in the back. She pulled out her blade and ducked as another swung wildly at her head. The Uruk-hai were much bigger than she had anticipated. Their arms rippled with muscle, wielding broadswords with immense force.

Elwyn sliced and ducked and parried, her swords darkening with the black blood of the creatures. At one point, Aragorn was beside her, his sword flashing in a lethal dance, then Gimli, hacking away with his axe, and then Legolas, as cool and calm as ever as he fired arrow after arrow. Countless Uruks lay slaughtered at their feet, but more and more kept coming, an endless wave of black armour, determined to destroy them. Elwyn had just decapitated another, when three short horn blasts echoed from the trees around them.

"The Horn of Gondor!" yelled Legolas. There was no mistaking it; it was a distress call. Boromir was in trouble.

"Aragorn, GO!" Elwyn shouted as she parried yet another blade, "We'll cover you!"

From the corner of her eye, she caught a flash of dark leather as the ranger leapt past and disappeared. She rammed her sword hilt into the face of an Uruk who crumpled to the ground. Another came up out of nowhere, sword raised. Elwyn ducked, bringing her sword upwards to defend herself. A painful jolt ran down her arm as their blades collided. The Uruk's blade pressed down on her own, lowering the razor edge towards her neck. Elwyn gritted her teeth as she tried to stand her ground. The Uruk's arm lashed out, and this time, she was not fast enough. A mailed fist smashed into her forehead, sending her sprawling to the ground.

"Elwyn!"

Legolas strained to reach her, but his attention was pulled away as another three Uruk-hai charged him. Elwyn struggled to regain her feet. A large, meaty hand clamped down on her neck and dragged her to her feet. She found herself staring up into the leering face of an Uruk.

"Die, Elf scum!" he snarled. Elwyn reached for her swords, but they had been knocked from her hands. She tried to grab her knife, but the Uruk squeezed her neck, cutting off her breath. Red spots danced in front of her eyes as Elwyn clawed at his hands, but it was futile. Her head swam and her arms lowered weakly. The Uruk raised his sword, ready to deliver the fatal blow. Suddenly, his body went rigid. His grip on Elwyn loosened enough for her to grasp her knife. She brought it slicing across his throat, splattering her face with hot, black blood. The Uruk slumped to the floor, dead, as Elwyn coughed and retched, desperate to regain some air into her lungs. She managed to look up and saw Legolas standing over the Uruk's body, a yellow-fletched arrow embedded in its back. The Elf lowered his bow.

"Th-thanks!" Elwyn managed to gasp. Legolas gave her a little salute with his bow. The Uruk-hai lay slain on the ground and the forest around them had grown silent. Elwyn groaned, massaging her throat. The three of them were all beaten and battered. Even Legolas was not entirely unscathed; a dark bruise flowering on his forehead.

"We need to find Aragorn," said Gimli. Legolas nodded, crouching down beside Elwyn. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and helped her to her feet.

"Are you hurt?" he asked.

"I'm fine," Elwyn said, coughing. She sheathed her knife and picked up her swords.

"Come on then!" Gimli said, brandishing his axe, clearly eager for more battle.

The trio raced downwards through the trees, following the direction Aragorn had gone. However, nothing prepared them for the sight that met them when they found him...

There was no fighting, no cries of battle. The bodies of countless Uruk-hai were strewn across the ground. Everything was deathly quiet, even the birds in the trees seemed to have ceased in their singing. And in the centre of the clearing, was Aragorn, crouching over a broken form on the ground. Slowly and silently, Elwyn crept forward and then she stopped in shock. Boromir lay beside Aragorn, the shafts of three black arrows protruding from his chest.

"They took the little ones!" he was gasping, blood staining his lips.

"Be still," Aragorn pleaded.

"Frodo!" Boromir said urgently, "Where is Frodo?" Aragorn dropped his gaze for a moment.

"I let Frodo go," he said quietly.

"Then you did what I could not," Boromir swallowed hard as more blood coated his lips, "I tried to take the Ring from him."

"The Ring is beyond our reach now," Aragorn said. Elwyn frowned. Was Frodo planning to go on alone?

"Forgive me," murmured Boromir, gripping Aragorn's shoulder, "I did not see. I have failed you all."

"No, Boromir," Aragorn tried to reassure him, "You fought bravely. You have kept your honour." He moved the pull out the arrows, but Boromir stayed him hand.

"Leave it!" he gasped, "It is over. The world of Men will fall. And all will come to darkness...and my city to ruin..." his despairing voice trailed off as he took several shuddering breaths.

"I do not know what strength is in my blood," Aragorn said forcefully, "But I swear to you; I will not let the White City fall...nor our people fail."

"Our people..." Boromir whispered. The light of hope began to shine in his fading eyes. With great effort, he turned and reached weakly for his sword. Aragorn gently pressed it to his chest. Beside Elwyn, Legolas stepped forward slightly, his face a mask of both grief and puzzlement. The two of them shared a despairing look. There was nothing they could do...

"I would have followed you, my brother..." Boromir whispered, "My captain...my king..."

The Gondorian's face shone with pride as he gave one last, shuddering breath...and then he moved no more. Grief welled up inside of Elwyn. She had never known the Steward's son well, and now it was too late.

Aragorn bowed his head over Boromir's body.

"Be at peace, Son of Gondor," he murmured.

Elwyn came and knelt beside him. Leaning down, she gently closed Boromir's eyes.

"They will look to his coming from the White Tower," Aragorn said quietly, "But he will not return." A solitary tear ran down his cheek, glistening in the sunlight.

Elwyn squeezed his hand.

"Uuma a naeth, mellon nîn, (do not despair, my friend)" she told him softly, "He will not die in vain."

They carried Boromir back to the shore. There was no time to give him the burial he deserved, so they laid him in one of the boats. Aragorn silently removed Boromir's vambraces and strapped them on his own arms, as a way of remembering and honouring his sacrifice. Then the four of them gently pushed the boat out into the river and watched in silence as the current carried it over the falls.

Elwyn sent him a silent farewell. Boromir may have tried to take the Ring, but his last act was protecting the hobbits, and so that was what she would remember him by. Her heart lay heavy with grief. First Gandalf, now Boromir...and Merry and Pippin had been taken by the Uruk-hai. She wondered if anymore would fall before the end, how many more people would suffer.

The crunch of stones startled her out of her depressing thoughts. Legolas was shoving a boat into the river.

"Hurry!" he urged them, "Frodo and Sam have reached the Eastern shore!" And indeed they had. Elwyn could see the two hobbits clambering from the boat. But she glanced at Aragorn standing alone. He was watching the hobbits go, a look of regret on his face, and Elwyn knew what he was thinking.

"You mean not to follow them," she said. It wasn't a question. Aragorn sighed.

"Frodo's fate is no longer in our hands."

Legolas walked over to him, glancing back at the hobbits. They were on their own now.

"Then it has all been in vain," Gimli said miserably, coming over, "The Fellowship has failed."

Aragorn looked at them one by one as they stood around him. He laid a hand on Legolas' and Gimli's shoulders and smiled at Elwyn.

"Not if we hold true to each other," he said, "We shall not abandon Merry and Pippin to torment and death. Not while we have strength left." He strode over and picked up his knife, slinging it into his sheath. "Leave all that can be spared behind. We travel light." He turned back to face them, determination in his silver eyes;

"Let's hunt some orc!"

He sprinted off into the trees. Elwyn, Legolas and Gimli exchanged a look, and with an excited cry, the Dwarf thundered after him. Elwyn laughed and she and Legolas followed without hesitation, adrenaline running through them. Elwyn could not contain her excitement. The Fellowship was broken, their journey at an end. But the real adventure was only just beginning...

* * *

**Yaaayy, we've reached the end of FoTR! I can't wait to start TTT, but sadly it might have to wait a while...I will hopefully have more time for writing after this week...**

**Hope you liked it, please leave a review because they make me HAPPY!**

**See you soon :)**


	14. Chapter 14

**Finally, exam week is over! I am freeeeeeee! ...until next year (nooo)**

**Anyhoo, I've decided to now use some of my spare time to update the next chapter, as I couldn't wait to start TTT**

**Please please please please review, and I hope you enjoy...**

* * *

**Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR**

The pursuit led the Four Hunters far away from the trees and rivers. Soon they were running across vast rolling plains of coarse, yellowing grass and ridges of grey rock. The chase reminded Elwyn of the days she had spent with the Dúnedain Rangers, wandering and tracking in the wilderness. This was what she lived for; the thrill of a hunt, of days spent under open skies, the wind on her face and the rush as she flew over the ground.

Aragorn seemed to relish it too, although he did not express his joy as freely as she did, always remaining focused. The two of them led the group, using Aragorn's tracking skills and Elwyn's keen senses to lead the way. Legolas easily kept up with them, hardly breaking a sweat, for Elves had incredible endurance. Gimli, on the other hand, was another thing. Although Dwarves were sturdy folk and resilient, they were not built for long-distance running. However, Gimli's stubbornness meant that so far, he had managed to stay with them, although it was clear he was growing weary.

For three days they kept up the chase, never showing any intention of slowing down. Their determination to reach their friends was what kept the Four Hunters going, although so far, they had received no sign of what the Uruk-hai were planning to do with the hobbits.

It was only on the third day, in the late morning that something finally happened. Elwyn came sprinting up a hill to find Aragorn lying on his stomach, his ear pressed against a rock. She knelt down beside him and laid a hand on the ground. Through the stone, she could feel the faint vibrations of thunderous footsteps, echoing through the surface of the entire landscape.

"Their pace has quickened," Aragorn murmured, leaping to his feet, "They must have picked up our scent." He took off running again, yelling back to the other three, "Hurry!"

Excitement rushed through Elwyn. Yes, this would make their mission all the more challenging, but if the Uruk-hai now knew that they were being followed, then they must be getting closer. There was a flash of green as Legolas sprinted past her.

"Come on, Gimli!" he called impatiently. Gimli came staggering up behind him, leaning on his axe and breathing heavily.

"We cannot stop now," Elwyn told him.

"Three days, we've been at it," Gimli wheezed, "No food, no rest. No sign of our quarry, but what bare rock can tell."

Elwyn laughed as she slowed down to run alongside him. The Dwarf managed to spare her a glance. Elwyn's green eyes were shining and she was flying over the ground with new found energy.

"What exactly has put you in such a good mood, lass?" Gimli asked, noting her enthusiasm. The corners of Elwyn's mouth tilted up as she observed the landscape in front of them.

"We're catching up."

The day dragged on, and the sun climbed higher into the sky. At the moment, it was Elwyn who was leading the group. She darted down into a small valley, stopping for a moment. She laid her hand against the surface of a rock. In her mind, she could see the dark shapes of the Uruk-hai, several leagues ahead. Unlike orcs, these creatures could travel in sunlight, meaning that they were a lot harder to catch. The grass in front of Elwyn had been flattened, deep footprints etched into the mud. Even to an inexperienced tracker, it was obvious that the Uruk-hai had passed this way. Elwyn's hand slowly fell back to her side as something caught her eye; the glint of something small in the mud.

"Aragorn!"

The ranger appeared at her side. In Elwyn's hand was a leaf-shaped broach, the symbol of Lothlórien, torn from one of the cloaks that the Fellowship had been gifted with. Elwyn held it out to Aragorn, who took it from her and examined it closely.

"Not idly do the leaves of Lórien fall," he murmured.

"A trail," Elwyn said excitedly, "They are still alive, they must be! And they know that we're coming for them."

"They're less than a day ahead of us!" said Aragorn, examining the tracks. He started forwards into a sprint, "Come on!"

"Legolas!" Elwyn yelled. The Elf appeared over a ridge.

"What?"

"Tell Gimli to hurry up. We're gaining on them!"

Legolas grinned and disappeared. As they kept moving, the ground began to gradually slope upwards. Aragorn, Elwyn and Legolas reached the crest of the hill and stared out over the landscape beneath them. Endless plains of grass, scarred with grey rock stretched out before them. The sun glared down, sending flares of light into their eyes.

"Rohan," said Aragorn, "Home of the horse-lords." Both he and Elwyn had been to Rohan several decades before. The landscape itself seemed unchanged, but there was a dangerous tint to the air. The air was hot and heavy, as if a storm was on the way. A warm breeze ruffled through Elwyn's curls. Legolas snuck a glance at her. Her green eyes were fixed on the horizon, her hair shining like fire in the sunlight. Her expression was unreadable, but he noted the tight grip she had on the hilt of her knife.

The Elf leapt across the rocks to the front of the group, straining his eyes to the landscape.

"Legolas!" Aragorn called after him, "What do your elf-eyes see?"

"The Uruks turned northeast!" Legolas reported. His heart sank as the realisation of their destination hit him.

"They're taking the hobbits to Isengard!"

"Saruman," spat Aragorn. There was no question now. They either had to find the hobbits, or die trying...

The four of them continued running for several more hours. By this time, Gimli was barely managing to keep up, and even Aragorn was showing the first signs of tiring. Elwyn and Legolas were both fine, but silently, Elwyn wondered how much longer they could go on. She was not about to leave Aragorn behind. Suddenly she froze, her ears picking up a distant sound. It was still too far away for her to make out what it was, and for a split second, Elwyn wondered if she had imagined it. But then Legolas stopped in his tracks and cocked his head to the side.

"Can you hear that?" he asked her. Elwyn nodded, listening hard.

Aragorn, realising that they had stopped, jogged back to see what was wrong.

"What is -?"

"Shhh!" Elwyn hissed. The sound was getting closer. Aragorn listened too, for it was now loud enough for human ears to pick up. At first, Elwyn thought it was thunder, but as it grew louder, its origin became clear.

"Horsemen," she said. Aragorn quickly sprung into action. He ushered his three companions out of sight behind a large rock. The sound of hooves, for that is what it was, grew louder. The Four Hunters watched in silence as the group of horsemen sped past them, spears and swords flashing in the sun. Even at the speed they were going, Elwyn recognised their armour and banners.

"The Rohirrim," she whispered to Aragorn. The ranger shot to his feet and called out to them, startling Elwyn;

"Riders of Rohan, what news from the Mark?"

The rider at the head to the group raised his spear, signalling the rest to turn. Elwyn found herself pressed against her companions as the horsemen circled around them. The horses were strong animals made for warfare and they towered above them. Although Elwyn knew her days of travelling had left her with a rather scrawny physique for an Elf, for the first time, she suddenly felt very, very small. Nevertheless, she stood her ground, refusing to show her intimidation. The Rohirrim lowered their spears towards their little group and everything fell into a tense silence. The lead horseman came forwards. He wore a helmet with a long golden plume, and what little Elwyn could see of his face was hard with distrust and weariness.

"What business," he said, "Do two Elves, a Man and a Dwarf have in the Riddermark?" The four of them remained silent.

"Speak quickly!" The rider commanded.

"I would hear your name first," Elwyn said, her temper flaring, "So that I may know who has the right to give orders to us." Aragorn shot her a warning look,which she ignored. The rider gave her a piercing stare that Elwyn returned, unfazed. Without a word, he dismounted his horse and came to stand in front of the young elleth. He was a good head taller than Elwyn, but she gave him one of her best glares all the same.

"I would watch that hot head of yours, Elf," the rider warned her dangerously, "Unless you wish to have it removed from your shoulders."

Never in all her life, had Elwyn seen somebody move so fast. In less than a heartbeat, Legolas had his bow drawn and an arrow notched, aiming straight at the rider.

"You would die before your stroke fell," he said furiously. The horsemen's spears immediately turned their points to the two Elves, jabbing them painfully in the back, but Elwyn barely noticed. She was too busy staring at Legolas. His face was set in a mask of anger, his blue eyes darkened to a stormy grey. What had gotten into him? She had never seem him look like that before...

Aragorn stepped between the Elf and rider, placing a hand of Legolas' arm and lowering his bow.

"I am Aragorn, Son of Arathorn. This is Gimli, Son of Gloin, Legolas of the Woodland Realm and Elwyn of Rivendell. We are friends of Rohan, and of Théoden, your king."

"Théoden no longer recognises friend from foe," the rider said bitterly, "Not even his own kin." He removed his helm, revealing tangled fair hair and a handsome, if somewhat weary, face. At this gesture, the rest of the horsemen withdrew their spears, no longer threatening the small group.

"Saruman has poisoned the mind of the king and claimed lordship over these lands," the rider continued, "My company are those loyal to Rohan. And for that, we are banished. The White Wizard is cunning."

His eyes wandered over each of the four companions, his voice lowered, "He walks here and there, they say, as an old man, hooded and cloaked. And everywhere his spies slip past our nets." He stopped in front of Legolas, sending him a threatening look that the Elf returned. For reasons unknown to her, Elwyn clenched her fists and her heart tightened.

"We are no spies," Aragorn said calmly, "We track a band of Uruk-hai, westward across the plain. They've taken two of our friends captive."

"The Uruks are dead," the rider said flatly, "We slaughtered them during the night."

"But there were two hobbits," said Gimli, "Did you see two hobbits with them?"

"They would be small," Aragorn added helpfully, "Only children to your eyes." A look of regret passed over the rider's face and Elwyn knew what he was going to say before he said it.

"We left none alive," came the rueful reply. He pointed to the crest of a hill where a great plume of smoke swept up into the sky, "We piled the carcasses and burned them."

"Dead?" Gimli whispered, horrified. The rider nodded.

"I am sorry."

Elwyn closed her eyes, in order to prevent tears that threatened to fall. Merry and Pippin, the sweet, funny, brave hobbits, now nothing more than ash. Two more gone. Their hunt, the desperate tracking and running had all been in vain.

She stared at the ground, trying to ignore the dull ache in her chest. Legolas squeezed her shoulder gently, and she looked at him gratefully.

The rider gave a shrill whistle.

"Hasufel, Arod, Avorn!" Three horses came forwards, a brown, white and grey.

"May these horses bear you to better fortune than their former masters," the rider said. He replaced his helm and swung up onto his horse.

"Farwell," he said, "Look for your friends. But do not trust to hope. It has forsaken these lands."

He gave them a final nod and then turned to his men.

"We ride north!"

The thunder of hooves filled the air once again and then was replaced by silence. Elwyn felt a nudge on the back of her neck. She turned to see the grey mare nuzzling her new rider. Reaching up, Elwyn gently stroked the horse's neck.

"Avorn," she murmured thoughtfully, "Let us see if you are indeed as fast as your name suggests."

The three horses galloped over to the gruesome bonfire, bearing their riders; Aragorn on Hasufel, Legolas and Gimli on Arod and Elwyn on Avorn. Elwyn had not realised how much she missed riding, but the short journey gave her little comfort as they reached their destination. She was too full of dread of what they might find.

The first thing that hit them was the smell. It swept towards them on the wind; the stench of blackened, rotting flesh. Elwyn's stomach churned and she forced herself not to gag. They dismounted and approached the smouldering pile of corpses on foot. At the edge was an Uruk's head impaled on a spear, black tongue lolling out of its mouth. The four of them stood, staring at the smoking pile in disbelief. Gimli cautiously approached it and began sifting through the mound with his axe. Elwyn could not do the same. She did not want to be the one to pull out the charred body of a hobbit. Gimli suddenly stopped and pulled something from the pile. He turned back to the others and held it out to them.

"It's one of their wee belts," he whispered in horror. A small sob escaped Elwyn's lips. They had failed...

Legolas bowed his head.

"Hiro hyn hîdh ab 'wanath, (May they find peace in death)," he murmured quietly. Aragorn suddenly yelled out in grief and kicked an Uruk helmet that was lying on the ground. Elwyn watched it sail through the air with miserable eyes. Aragorn sank to his knees, and slumped, defeated.

"Saruman will pay for this," Elwyn muttered darkly, anger replacing her anguish, "If it's the last thing we do."

Nobody said anything. Galadriel's words echoed inside of Elwyn's head;

"In all lands love is now mingled with grief." And she was right. Elwyn had been around death ever since she had first left Rivendell. She had seen blood spilt and spilt blood herself a thousand times and more. But that did not make each loss any easier, and this was perhaps the worst of all. The death of two hobbits, who had never seen anything other than their peaceful homeland. Two innocent souls who had become caught up in this dangerous task and now had paid dearly for it.

"A hobbit lay here," Aragorn suddenly said, staring at the ground in front of him, "And the other."

He began to move forward, brow creased. "They crawled..."

Elwyn followed him, her heart quickening as he moved faster.

"Their hands were bound." Aragorn's fingertips ran over the ground, his voice growing steadily louder. "Their bonds were cut." He peeled a frayed rope from where in was hidden in the earth. Excitement coursed through Elwyn as she fell into step beside the ranger. Her eyes scanned the ground along with Aragorn's for any signs of Merry and Pippin.

"They ran over here..." Aragorn stood, continuing to follow the faint footprints. "And were followed." He began to run, eyes fixed on the ground, "The tracks lead away from the battle! Into... Fangorn Forest."

He halted before a dense line of trees, impossibly tall with ancient, gnarled trunks. There was a hint of a threat in the air, emanating from the trees and Elwyn felt that there was something very old and very powerful living in that forest.

"Fangorn!" Gimli breathed fearfully, "What madness drove them there?"

"I don't know," Elwyn replied. She turned to the others, her mouth curling into an almost childish grin.

"Let's go find out!"

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**Did anyone else have a little giggle at 'They're taking the hobbits to Isengard!" ? I know I did :) I also saw the video of Orlando Bloom singing it, it's so funny!**

**Also, the latest Hobbit production video came out and I have watched it over and over again. December cannot come fast enough!**

**Anyway, hoped you liked the first chapter of TTT! Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, followed and favourited, you have made me very happy ;) I promise to update again soon!**

**Please please please review...and I will give you a virtual hug :)**

**Till next time...**


	15. Chapter 15

**Sorry for the wait, I've been on holiday...**

**This chapter's a bit on the short side but I wanted to upload something for you guys before I went away again. Also I've reached 50 reviews! Thank you so much to everyone who had taken the time to read and leave a comment, you guys are the reason I choose to continue this story :)**

**Here you go... **

As soon as the four entered Fangorn Forest, their surroundings instantly grew dimmer. The air was cool and the ancient smell of earth surrounded them. The trees were so thick and dense that it was impossible to see a little more than a few metres into the forest. Everything was silent, but amidst this silence, the trees seemed to hold a quiet anger. Elwyn had grown up with the stories of Fangorn, and she knew very well the legends born from the trees that surrounded them. The thought left her feeling rather tense in this place, even for an Elf. Legolas however, gazed around, fascination etched upon every inch of his face. Elwyn supposed that for a Wood-Elf, Fangorn was a place of pure wonderment.

Elwyn could not help but feel very humbled in the presence of the trees. Although she had travelled across the lands of Rohan, she had never stepped foot into Fangorn. She was only 510 years old, still considered young for an Elf, and she was certain that this forest had been around for far longer than she had. Nevertheless, she was excited at the prospect of entering this part of Middle Earth that was unknown to her, and the possibility of finally finding the hobbits.

She silently trailed at the back of the group, falling into step beside Gimli. The Dwarf seemed incredibly uneasy, gripping the handle of his axe tightly. Elwyn suppressed a smile. Perhaps this was what she had been like in the darkness of Moria, where Gimli had been comfortable. Now it was him forced into an environment better suited for Elves.

The Dwarf suddenly spat something onto the ground.

"Orc blood!" he said. Elwyn turned and saw him standing by a shrub, its leaves coated in the black substance. She wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"Please tell me you did not just put that in your mouth," she pleaded. Gimli shrugged and Elwyn rolled her eyes, moving towards Aragorn. The ranger was crouched over a strange mark on the ground. Twigs and leaves had been flattened, leaving a crater almost five feet wide. About fifteen feet ahead was another, giving the impression that these were not just random markings; they were footprints. Elwyn looked around anxiously. She had no idea what sort of creature could leave such a trail.

"These are strange tracks," Aragorn said, glancing at her. She nodded in agreement.

"The air is so close in here," Gimli muttered uneasily.

"This forest is old," said Legolas thoughtfully, "Very old. Full of memory."

"And anger..." Elwyn murmured, so quietly that Legolas barely heard her. He watched her tug the ends of her hair nervously, smiling at the familiar habit . He had grown used to her different mannerisms and human tendencies over the course of their journey. He decided that they were one of the things he liked best about her. A sudden moan echoed around them, and the branches creaked and cracked in a haunting symphony. Gimli raised his axe in alarm.

"The trees are speaking to each other," Legolas said in awe.

"Gimli!" hissed Aragorn, as the groaning grew louder, "Lower your axe." Gimli reluctantly did so, eyeing the trees warily as they fell silent once again.

"They have feelings my friend," Legolas told him, "The Elves began it; waking up the trees, teaching them to speak."

"Talking trees," scoffed Gimli, "What do trees have to talk about, hmm? Except the consistency of squirrel droppings."

Elwyn bit back a laugh and the Dwarf shot her an amused look. But their mirth was short-lived when Legolas suddenly stiffened. He turned towards the deeper forest, blue eyes piercing the darkness.

"Aragorn, nad no ennas (something's out there)," he said urgently. Immediately, Aragorn and Elwyn were by his side.

"Man cenich? (what do you see?)," asked Aragorn. Elwyn held her breath, all of her senses tingling. She wasn't sure, but she thought she heard the faint rustle of a cloak slithering over dead leaves. Her hand instinctively crept towards Calad êg.

"The White Wizard approaches," said Legolas.

Elwyn's heart beat fast. Saruman was here...

Without a sound, she drew her knife.

"Do not let him speak," Aragorn commanded, "He will put a spell on us." All four of them tightened their grip on their weapons. Elwyn could sense how close the wizard was. It was as if he were standing directly behind them.

"Tira ten' rashwe (be careful)," she whispered to Legolas. He gave her a reassuring nod.

They spun around, simultaneously raising their weapons. A blinding white light greeted them, flooding through the forest. Without hesitation, Legolas released his arrow. It would have been a fatal hit, but instead the arrow shattered when it hit the light. The same happened with Gimli's axe, and both Elwyn and Aragorn's blades seared red-hot in their hands, causing them to let go. Elwyn squinted into the light, trying to make out the figure who stood before them. Her heart beat wildly in her chest, and yet she felt strangely unafraid.

"You are tracking the footsteps of two young hobbits," the figure stated. His voice was deep and wizened, and there was an underlying familiarity to it.

"What have you done with them?" Elwyn snarled, "Where are they?"

"They passed this way, the day before yesterday," the figure told them, "They met someone...they did not expect. Does that comfort you?"

"Who are you?" demanded Aragorn, a hand raised to shield his eyes, "Show yourself!"

The light slowly dimmed, and in the fading gleam, Elwyn saw a face that she had never expected to ever see again.

Gandalf stood before them, clad in a shining white robe. His appearance had changed slightly, the once grey beard now the colour of fresh snow, but he had the same wise, kindly eyes that no spell could replicate. There was no doubt about it; it was definitely him. The Wandering Wizard had returned.

"It cannot be," breathed Aragorn, as the four of them stared in shock. Legolas knelt, bowing his head.

"Forgive me," he said, "I mistook you for Saruman."

"I am Saruman," Gandalf said. Fear seized Elwyn's heart for a brief moment, but then the wizard continued, "Or rather, Saruman as he should have been." Aragorn seemed to still be in shock.

"You fell," he said dazedly. Gandalf nodded gravely, his eyes darkening slightly.

"Through fire...and water. From the lowest dungeon to the highest peak, I fought him, the Balrog of Morgoth. Until at last, I threw down my enemy and smote his ruin upon the mountainside. Darkness took me, and I strayed out of thought and time. Stars wheeled overhead, and every day was as long as a life age of the earth. But it was not the end. I felt life in me again."

They all gazed at him in wonder, marvelling at his ordeal.

"I'm glad you're back, Gandalf," Elwyn said, after a few moments, "We need you."

Gandalf seemed confused for a second.

"Gandalf?" he mused, "Yes...that is what they used to call me. Gandalf the Grey, that was my name."

He looked over them all, a new and powerful light emanating from him.

"I am Gandalf the White. And I come back to you now, at the turn of the tide. One stage of your journey is over. Another begins. We must travel to Edoras with all speed."

"Edoras?" Gimli exclaimed, "That is no short distance."

"Would you rather stay here?" Elwyn asked innocently and he scowled.

"We hear of trouble in Rohan," Aragorn muttered to Gandalf, "It goes ill with the king."

"Yes, and it will not be easily cured." Gandalf said grimly.

"Then have we run all this way for nothing?" Gimli asked, "Are we to leave those poor hobbits here... in this horrid, dark, dank, tree-infested -" A low,b rumbling groan echoed from the trees and Gimli jumped, "I mean, charming, quite charming forest."

"It was more than mere chance that brought Merry and Pippin to Fangorn." Gandalf said, "A great power has been sleeping here for many long years. The coming of Merry and Pippin will be like the falling of small stones... that starts an avalanche in the mountains."

"In one way you have not changed," said Aragorn.

"You still speak in riddles."

Gandalf chuckled.

"A thing is about to happen that has not happened since the Elder Days. The Ents are going to wake up..and find that they are strong."

"The Ents?" Elwyn breathed. She had heard stories of the Tree Herders but never had she seen one.

"Strong?" Gimli said nervously, "Oh, that's good."

"Stop your fretting, Master Dwarf." Gandalf scoffed, "Merry and Pippin are quite safe. In fact, they are far safer than you are about to be."

"The new Gandalf's more grumpy that the old one." Gimli muttered, and Elwyn smirked.

The four of them followed the wizard through the trees, winding over roots and leaves. Eventually their surroundings began to lighten and they found themselves at the edge of the forest. Elwyn blinked several times at the sudden stab of sunlight. Before them lay a great plain, stretching even beyond her elven sight. She heard Gimli give a sigh of relief and she suppressed a smile. No doubt he was glad to be out of the forest. Legolas on the other hand looked slightly wistful as he glanced back at the trees.

There was a soft bump against her shoulder and Elwyn realised that their horses had found them. Avorn nuzzled Elwyn's hair and the young elleth smiled as she stroked the mare.

"Hello again, mellon nîn (my friend)" she said, "Did you miss me?" Avorn snorted. Elwyn noticed that Hasufel and Arod were with her, but there was the question of Gandalf's lack of mount. How was he planning to ride to Edoras?

The answer came when the wizard let out a piercing whistle. There was the sound of hooves and then from across the plain came the most beautiful stallion that Elwyn had ever seen. His coat was a gleaming white, and there was a majestic pride to him as he cantered towards them, stopping in front of Gandalf.

"That is one of the Mearas," Legolas said, awestruck. "Unless my eyes are cheated by some spell."

"Shadowfax." Gandalf murmured. "He is the Lord of all horses and he has been my friend through many dangers. Come, we must ride. The sooner we get to Edoras, the better."

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**Hope you enjoyed, please leave a review!**

**Also at some point I am going to go back and edit a few chapters as I want to change Elwyn's backstory at some point...**

**Until next time :)**


	16. Chapter 16

**Hey everyone! First of all, I am so sorry that I have taken so long to update. I've kinda had a rough few weeks and haven't felt like writing much. Also, last time I said that I would maybe go back and edit some earlier chapters, but I have been unable to do so as I have lost all of the files from my laptop (sad face) so it's been rather annoying. But anyway, here is the next chapter, and there is a little Elwyn and Legolas scene because I know that several people were asking ;)**

**A huge thank you to all of you who were kind enough to leave a review, you all help me to make this story better and encourage me to update more often. Thank you so much :)**

**Hope you enjoy**

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As the sun began to dip below the horizon and the first stars appeared, the group of companions decided that it would be best to stop for the night. They came to rest next to another forest; smaller and less threatening than Fangorn.

After leaving Arod to graze, Legolas wondered back to his friends. He noticed, with a strange uneasiness, that Elwyn was nowhere to be seen.

"Do not worry, my friend," Aragorn said, reading the Elf's face, "She likes to move around. She is not called Elwyn Randír for nothing."

"Elwyn Wanderer," Legolas translated. He smiled to himself. It was a fitting name for the young elleth. Aragorn grinned.

"She will not have gone far," he said, "Scouting is one of her specialties." He lit up his pipe and took a drag, sending Legolas a sly look. "Why the concern?"

"I am simply curious," Legolas said defensively. He ran a hand along his bow, feeling slightly uncomfortable underneath the ranger's gaze. He muttered something about fetching firewood and then slipped off into the trees.

Beneath the coolness of the leaves, Legolas allowed his head to clear. Why had he become all defensive when questioned about Elwyn? She was stubborn and easily riled, and only recently had she finally accepted him as a friend. He knew that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, so why did he feel such concern for her? Legolas sighed and shook his head. He leaned back against the trunk of an elm and gently placed his hands on the rough bark, his mind reaching into the tree. Talking to the trees had always been a comfort to him in the Greenwood; it would help clear his mind.

He closed his eyes and allowed his mind to join with the tree. Its leaves shivered slightly at the presence of the Elf, but quickly realised that the Prince was no threat. Legolas allowed himself a smile. Perhaps now he could escape from his wandering thoughts...

"What in the name of Arda are you doing?"

Legolas' eyes snapped open.

Elwyn was sitting in a tree above him, one leg dangling lazily. She was watching him with mild curiosity, spinning and catching her knife effortlessly with one hand. Her green eyes were almost cat-like in the moonlight as she studied him.

"I was talking to the tree," Legolas explained.

"Oh." Of course, she would not be familiar with the act. She was not a wood-Elf.

"Do trees have a lot to say then?" Elwyn asked him, the corners of her mouth twitching into a grin.

"You'd be surprised."

Elwyn raised an eyebrow and gracefully swung down from her perch, landing neatly on the ground.

"You must miss it," she said, sitting down beside him.

"Miss what?"

"All of it. The Greenwood, your family, the trees...your home."

Legolas sighed.

"I do miss it," he admitted, "Though joining the Fellowship was the right choice. As dangerous as it's been, I would not choose to be anywhere else."

"What of your father?" Elwyn asked, "What did he think of your decision?" Legolas shrugged.

"He was...unsure at first. He did not to risk losing his only son and heir. But he knew little could be said to change my mind and eventually accepted it."

Elwyn nodded thoughtfully.

"What about you?" Legolas asked her.

"Oh, I was never meant to be at that council," Elwyn said, "I bullied my father into letting me in. He is too protective of me. He would not even let me leave Imladris until Aragorn could."

"Why was that?"

"He doesn't want to lose me like he almost lost my mother."

Legolas was silent for a while and then spoke quietly.

"Your mother sailed didn't she?" Elwyn looked at him, frowning.

"How do you know that?"

"My father told me," Legolas said, "But I learnt most of the tale from your brothers." Elwyn's face lit up.

"Elladan and Elrohir? You've met them?"

"Of course," Legolas said, "I have been to Imladris before, you know. Though not for many years. The last time I went was over five hundred years ago." He paused for a moment, smiling. "That was when I first met you."

"Me?" Elwyn repeated, "You've met me before?"

"I would not expect you to remember," Legolas told her, "You were nothing more than a toddler. It was just after you mother had sailed, and my father had come to pay his respects to your father. But I remember you. Your hair was red even then and you would not let go of Arwen's hand. You just glared at me suspiciously the entire time."

Elwyn smiled.

"That sounds like me," she said, "I didn't even know..."

"It's true," Legolas insisted, "Ask your brothers. Although, I would not entirely rely on them for truthful answers." Elwyn laughed, obviously thinking of the mischief she and the twins liked to cause as their sister looked on in disapproval.

Legolas had not realised how much he enjoyed talking with Elwyn. He almost wished that the two of them did not have to go back.

"Come on," he said, standing up and reclaiming his bow, "The others will be wondering where we are." He offered his hand to Elwyn and this time she took it, her fingers slipping into his palm. A rush of warmth went through Legolas, and a crazy part of him wanted to keep hold of her hand, but he pushed the thought away and loosened his grip, clenching his fist around his bow instead.

"Coming?" Elwyn asked. She was already halfway out of the trees. Legolas cleared his throat.

"Coming."

He followed her out, trying to ignore the fact that his hand was still tingling from her touch.

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At first, Edoras was nothing more than a dark blemish on the chalky hillside on the horizon, but as the five riders drew closer, the city slowly came into view; brown weathered buildings scattered on the slopes, several long buildings that Elwyn knew to be stables. And on the crest of the hill, a simple yet elegant building - Meduseld, the Golden Hall and residence of the king.

As they entered through the city gates, the air seemed to grow cold and unfriendly. From the hostile glances their party received, Elwyn got the feeling that they were not welcome at all. Her hand tightened on Avorn's reins as she followed Gandalf up the winding streets. The city was silent, the only sounds being the faint whisper of the wind and the gentle thudding of hooves. Everyone they passed greeted them with the same distrustful stares, before quickly looking away. It was far different from the welcoming, bustling city she had seen last time.

"You'll find more cheer in a graveyard," Gimli muttered dryly. Elwyn smiled grimly, silently agreeing with him.

Stairs of great stone slabs led up to the king's hall and it was here that the five dismounted and climbed to the top. Before they could go in however, a group of armed guards appeared, blocking the entrance.

One of them stepped forward, his decorative armour labelling him as a man of high rank. His face was weary, but he spoke to the party with unwavering authority;

"I cannot allow you before Théoden King so armed, Gandalf Greyhame. By order of Gríma Wormtongue." It may have been Elwyn's imagination but she thought his mouth turned up slightly in disgust as the name left his lips.

Gandalf nodded and gestured for them all of to surrender their weapons. Legolas passed the guards his bow, quiver and knives. Gandalf and Aragorn gave up their swords, and Gimli handed over his axe, albeit, a little reluctantly.

Aragorn gave Elwyn a sharp look and she huffed in annoyance, glaring at the guards. She unsheathed her swords and handed them over. Aragorn elbowed her in the ribs and she sighed, drawing Calad-êg from her belt and giving it to the guard. Legolas turned away from her so she couldn't see his face, but Elwyn was certain that he was grinning.

They were about to move forward when the guard held up his hand.

"Your staff," he said to Gandalf.

"Hmm?" Gandalf glanced at his staff innocently, "Oh. You would not part an old man from his walking stick."

The guard hesitated, and then reluctantly nodded, stepping aside. Gandalf winked slyly and the party walked forward into the Hall of King Théoden.

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**So, we have Meduseld next! I can't wait to write more, TTT was always my favourite of the trilogy :) I go back to school in a few days, starting Year 11 (nooo!) so I may not update as often as I'd like, but don't worry, I am not going to abandon this story!**

**Please take the time to leave a review, I really appreciate them.**

**Also please feel free to follow me on Tumblr - elwynofrivendell - I do follow people back!**

**Thank you and see you all soon :)**


	17. Chapter 17

**Hey guys, just a short chapter this time because I wanted to give you all something before I start school again tomorrow, and also this is one of my favourite moments and I couldn't wait to write it.**

**Thank you for all of your wonderful reviews!**

**Enjoy...**

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The Hall of Théoden was quite different from how Elwyn remembered. Once it had been a place of merriment and beauty, but now Elwyn thought it was just thoroughly depressing. No torches were lit, the only light was the pale sunlight that filtered through the doorway. Carved pillars lined the walls, casting ominous shadows on the cold stone floor. The hall was silent, save the footsteps of the five as they made their way forward. Gandalf was choosing to hold onto Legolas' arm as they walked, making him look very much like an old, frail man, not the powerful wizard he was. With the grey cloak he was wearing, he also looked a lot more like his old self. Elwyn suppressed a smirk.

At the other end of the hall, was a golden throne. Seated upon it was King Théoden. His face was weathered and wrinkled like old parchment, his hands gnarled and trembling. Eyes that had once been bright blue were now milky and clouded, and his hair hung in wisps. Beside him was an oily man, with deathly white skin and greasy black hair. He was clutching the arm of the throne, as if he were planning to shove the king out of it and sit there himself. Instinctively, Elwyn knew that this must be Gríma Wormtongue. Her gaze drifted to the side and she was unsurprised to see a band of thuggish men keeping in step with her and her companions, cracking their knuckles and sending them threatening stares. No doubt about it; a fight was coming. She only hoped that she wouldn't be left out of the action.

"The courtesy of your hall is somewhat lessened of late, Théoden King." Gandalf said, his voice echoing around the hall.

Gríma leaned forward and whispered something to the king. Elwyn was too distracted to hear him - she was busy watching the men following them.

"Why should I... welcome you, Gandalf... Stormcrow?" Théoden mumbled wearily, looking to Gríma for confirmation.

"A just question, my liege." Gríma rose and slunk down the steps, stepping towards them, "Late is the hour in which this conjurer chooses to appear." Elwyn clenched her fists tightly. "Lathspell, I name him. Ill news is an ill guest."

"Be silent!" Gandalf snapped, "Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth. I have not passed through fire and death to bandy crooked words with a witless worm."

He raised his staff threateningly, and Gríma instantly backed away, his eyes full of fear.

"His staff!" He moaned to the guards, backing away. "I told you to take the wizard's staff!"

The men rushed towards Gandalf, but before they could get close, Elwyn, Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli all sprang forwards to intercept them. One of the thugs swiped at Elwyn's head. She easily darted out of the way, and spun around, kicking him in the jaw. Another tried to grab her from behind and she twisted, elbowing him in the nose. He lunged again and with a sigh, the elleth kneed him in the groin and threw him to the floor.

"Too easy," she said.

Meanwhile, Gandalf kept advancing towards the king, completely unfazed by the brawl that was happening around him.

"Théoden, son of Thengel, too long have you sat in the shadows."

Elwyn noticed Gríma scurrying backwards and started towards him but Gimli got there first. He pinned Gríma down, planting his boot on his chest.

"I'd stay very still if I were you," he growled.

"Hearken to me!" Gandalf continued, extending his hand, "I release you from the spell."

There was a pregnant pause, and then Théoden began to laugh. But the laugh that came from his lips was not his. It was dark and powerful, the voice of Saruman, and the very sound of it sent chills through Elwyn.

"You have no power here, Gandalf the Grey!" Théoden rasped.

Without warning, Gandalf suddenly shed the grey cloak he was clad in. The brilliant white of his robes seemed to illuminate the entire hall and he radiated a power the like of which, Elwyn had never felt before. Théoden fell back against the throne, crying out as if the light hurt him.

"I will draw you, Saruman, as poison is drawn from a wound." Gandalf said forcefully, approaching the throne.

There was the sound of footsteps as a pretty young woman with long golden hair came running into the room. She started forwards towards the king, but Aragorn held her back.

"Wait," he said quietly. She reluctantly obeyed.

"If I go... Théoden dies!" grunted Théoden, although he was sounding more and more like Saruman by the second.

"You did not kill me, you will not kill him," Gandalf told him, a dangerous edge creeping into his voice.

Théoden seemed to be struggling against some invisible bond that was holding him to the throne.

"Rohan is mine!" Saruman's voice spat.

"Be gone!" Gandalf commanded. Théoden gave an angry cry and Elwyn tensed as he lunged towards the wizard. But Gandalf thrust his staff forward, slamming the king back into the throne. He was motionless for a moment, then moaned, slumping forward. Aragorn released the woman, who dashed to the king's side, catching him just before he tipped out of his chair. She steadied him, her eyes searching his face. Théoden sat panting, and then one of the most extraordinary things that Elwyn had ever seen happened. His hair and beard became shorter, thicker and more golden. He seemed to grow taller and broader, the proper stature of a king. The wrinkles and paleness vanished from his skin, making him look much younger. His eyes were no longer foggy; only slightly dazed as if he had just woken from a terrible nightmare.

The woman smiled and laid a hand on his cheek, her eyes glistening with tears of joy. The king gently touched her face.

"I know your face," he breathed dazedly. "Éowyn... Éowyn." The woman gave a watery laugh. Théoden smiled at her tenderly, then his eyes turned to the five newcomers who stood before him. "Gandalf?"

"Breathe the free air again, my friend." Gandalf smiled proudly.

A crowd had gathered before the king, staring up at him with awestruck faces. The hall seemed lighter now, much more joyous and a lot more as it once was.

"Dark have been my dreams of late." Théoden said quietly. Elwyn could never hope to imagine what kinds of horror Saruman had fed into the king's mind. Théoden's hands were trembling as if he were not quite used to having control over his own body.

"Your fingers would remember their old strength better... if they grasped your sword." Gandalf advised kindly.

A guard rushed up with the sword, holding it out to the king. Théoden slowly reached out, curling his fingers around the leather-bound hilt. He drew it slowly, revealing the broad, shining blade. His eyes drifted along the weapon as if he were seeing it for the first time, coming to stop on the two horsehead engravings on the pommel.

Théoden studied the blade for a few moments until his eyes flicked over to the corner where Gríma was being held. Gimli had him by the collar, and the slimy advisor was quivering, his greasy hair falling in his face.

Théoden gestured to the guards who seized Gríma roughly by the arms. His cries rang through the hall as he was dragged roughly through the door, Théoden following, his face hard. Gandalf and the others were just behind him.

The doors were thrown open and Gríma thrown mercilessly down the steps. He rolled down the stairs and came to a stop, moaning in pain and blood coming from his lip. His eyes were wide with terror as Théoden approached him, sword in hand.

"I have only... ever served you, my Lord," Gríma grovelled, shrinking away from the king's fury.

A crowd had begun to gather, all of them staring open-mouthed at their newly restored king and the strange scene unfurling in front of them.

"Your leechcraft would have had me crawling on all fours like a beast!" Théoden snarled.

The others watched from a safe distance, unsure of what would happen next.

"Send me not from your side!" Gríma begged, but in vain.

He screamed as Théoden raised his sword above his head to deliver the fatal blow, when Aragorn suddenly leapt forward, grabbing the king's arms and stopping him mid-swing.

"No, my Lord! No, my Lord. Let him go." He looked the king in the eye, "Enough blood has been spilt on his account."

Reluctantly, Théoden obeyed, lowering his sword and slowly watched back up the stairs. He seemed drained all of a sudden, his steps slow and unsteady. Behind him, Aragorn stretched out a hand to Gríma, who took one loathsome look at it and spat. Elwyn started forwards angrily, but Legolas laid a hand on her arm.

"There is no fight for us here, Elwyn," he said firmly. Elwyn shrugged him off but she begrudgingly stayed put, watching Gríma with an expression of intense dislike.

Gríma scrambled to his feet and staggered through the crowd. "Get out of my way!" Nobody bothered trying to stop him. The sooner he was gone, the better.

"Hail, Théoden king!" called a guard, and the crowd knelt, glad that their king had been returned to them. Théoden barely acknowledged them. Instead he turned around and spoke quietly to no one in particular;

"Where is Théodred?" he asked, "Where is my son?"

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**So I'm gonna leave it there. I hope to update soon, but it may be a while with the start of another year and everything, so hang in there!**

**Please please leave a review and again, a huge thanks to everyone who has followed, favourited and reviewed :) you guys are amazing!**

**Till next time! xx**


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